Xerigor
by drufan
Summary: For a brief moment, he thought that this was heaven. Time dilation, Wraith and the crusades, oh my! A gen. team fic with John and Rodney front and center. Oh yeah, there's whump.
1. Prologue: In the Middle of

_A/N: Well, hopefully, this is a good old-fashioned adventure fic. Spoilers possible for anything up to and including McKay and Mrs. Miller. As always, I will also refer back to my own stories. It's a gen team fic so enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and anything associated with it is not mine. If it was…oh the possibilities._

**Xerigor**

Prologue: In the Middle Of…

Even with the palm trees surrounding him, the humid, furnace-like heat surprised him. Florida at the end of September was just as hot as Florida in the middle of August. He shut everything down as a young lieutenant jogged over to his side of the bird shouting over the residual rotor wash.

"Captain Sheppard! This way sir!" The lieutenant held his salute while holding the cockpit door open.

Sheppard finished his shut down routine and returned the salute as he exited the craft. He looked at the planted palms and scraggly pines while he tried to keep from wilting in the heat radiating off the asphalt. He prayed for a breeze and did not receive a single breath. The stifling heat created droplets of sweat that trickled and tickled their way down his back and chest. The flight suit stuck to him in all the wrong places and he wriggled- hopefully unseen- to loosen those areas afflicted.

The heat also restricted his breathing. He coughed and for a brief instant saw a dusty, annoyed and worried face staring at him. He closed his eyes to get rid of the apparition only to nearly bump into the back of the young lieutenant. The young man did not seem to notice the near miss as he directed Sheppard into a wonderfully cold office building. The sudden change in temperature sent shivers up and down his spine and he reveled in the sensation. For a brief moment, he thought that this was heaven.

"That's more like it," he whispered with a relieved grin. John Gorrie was a superhero and a saint to those living in the South. He was a man to be revered, especially in Florida, where shorts were the norm at Christmas.

"Yes sir, ninety-eight degrees in the shade today," the young man chuckled. "Welcome to Pensacola, sir."

Sheppard gave a light chuckle in return and removed his sunglasses. The inside of the building looked like any other facility built in the forties, fifties, sixties or seventies: Terrazzo tiled floors and green walls. The windows were covered in metal blinds and the desks were metal and Formica. He guessed the designers decided not to mess with institutional perfection and stayed the course through all sorts of fads like shag carpeting and avocado appliances. Of course, upgrades had been made. Computers were on every desk, the telephones were not rotary, and indoor plumbing had been introduced.

Lt. Quinn-- the young man finally introduced himself after Sheppard asked for the second time what his name was-- led him past guards and offices and more offices until they stopped in front a door labeled with the name, Gen. Ronald Koch, USAF. Quinn knocked, went in, and announced to an adjutant sitting behind one of the small institutional desks, "Capt. John Sheppard to see Gen. Koch." He pronounced it like Cook and waited stiffly for an answer.

The adjutant nodded and picked up a phone. "Capt. Sheppard is here." He paused and gave the go ahead nod. "Go on in, they're waiting."

_They_. Sheppard had no idea, clue or inkling why he was sweating in the North Florida heat-- or--Why he was ordered to fly down from D.C. -- or-- Why "they" were waiting just for him. The door opened and an unexpected hot wind blew into his face.

"_Sheppard, you need to get up!"_

He shook the general's hand.

"_That's it, Sheppard! Upsy-daisy!"_

The general returned the shake while the incongruous demand wafted through an open window. The command and the encouragement were from a highly annoyed, yet familiar voice. Confused, Sheppard stared at Gen. Koch whose eyes shined unnaturally blue, neon blue if he had to put a name to it. The humidity from outside and the air-conditioning made him shiver and cough one more time. His breathing labored in the thick air and sapped the strength from his very bones. He excused himself and closed his eyes trying to catch his breath.

"_No, no, no! Damn it Sheppard! Stop lying around and help me! Teylaaa!"_

The General introduced the other man in the room. "This is Col. Daniel Newton of the United States Army- but don't hold that against him." His mischievous tone disappeared with the next statement. "We have a proposition for you, Captain."

The door shut behind him. The click sounded so final, principal's office final.

"We have a mission for you and the colonel is going to lead it."

"_Ronon, Teyla's down too!" _The out-of-place voice intruded and split his attention between the here and now and the then and there. He was not sure which was which, but grass tickled his face and the office suddenly smelled like dirt. A charcoal knee swam into view for a second and he tried to remember why that knee was so important.

"_Ronon! They got 'em! Those Civil War re-enactors shot 'em both!" _

And then, the all important knee was gone and the office windows filtered sunlight into the cold room. The colonel held out his hand and grinned. "Good to meet you Capt. Sheppard. I have a feeling we're going to get along great."

----------------


	2. Ch 1: The Temporal Watusi

Chapter 1

The Temporal Watusi

"Okay, that's weird."

"Rodney, that's not what a pilot likes to hear upon exiting a wormhole-- or flying-- or generally doing anything in a flying ship of any kind."

Sheppard had been testy for the last two days. So, when Zelenka found a possible ZPM production site, and they were next in line on the duty roster, and then pulled the mission, Sheppard uncharacteristically balked with physical cues along with verbal. Meaning, Rodney could tell that Sheppard did not want to be here. Of course, the stubborn ass was not going to say anything outright since, obviously, there was no good reason not to go, and only very good reasons to go. Any other time, Sheppard would have been salivating like McKay, but something was not quite right with his team leader. Sheppard liked to share his misery when possible with his teammates. Whatever it was; it kept his bad attitude aimed at them.

Rodney thought he had better assuage any fears or doubts immediately, because the second reason they were here was due to three advancing Hive ships. This was not going to be a quick or easy mission so he really needed to squash any other grounds for caustic comments.

"Just an errant energy reading. Could've been temporal, maybe?"

Sheppard turned his head with excruciating slowness and control. Regan's inner beast would have been proud. Apparently, mentioning temporal anything was not the way to assuage fears.

"Temporal, _maybe_? McKay, last time we had '_temporal, maybe?' _I jumped ahead in the calendar six months."

"Don't panic. I'm running diagnostics and, yes, it is temporal, but nothing seems affected. Maybe we should dial out and see if we can return through the Stargate and not get stuck on this side?" McKay felt less confident as he spoke and poked at the Jumper's control interface and his laptop. Sheppard's icy glare did nothing to boost that confidence.

Sheppard turned the Jumper around and headed back to the Stargate. The energy reading registered again, but the systems updated by themselves.

"Well, we can go in and out; that's good," Ronon observed from his seat.

"Appears that way," answered Sheppard before ordering, "Dial it up, McKay."

Rodney did and Atlantis answered.

"Sorry to bother you, we were just checking to see if we could make contact with you," Sheppard informed them.

"Tell Zelenka, the planet is surrounded by another temporal differential. So…we may be gone hours, but to us it will seem like days," interrupted Rodney, which earned him another glare from Sheppard.

The technician acknowledged the message. The next voice on the radio was Weir's.

"Are you sure? The last time, John was…"

Exasperation flooded McKay's system at being reminded yet again of the last time there had been a temporal barrier. He effectively cut her off. "Yes, yes I know, but we can cross the boundary both ways unimpeded. This one is set up a little differently from Ascension Land. It's also not as accelerated. We won't be gone hours and months will have passed for us. It'll be more like days."

"What do you think, John?"

The acidic and derogatory sideways glare continued from Sheppard as he responded, "ZPM production, it's worth the risk. We're kind of out right now, aren't we?"

Rodney glared right back with his own challenge.

"It gives us extra time to check out what's down there. We'll give it two days…" Sheppard looked directly back at Rodney. "…and then check in. It should be about…fourteen hours."

"Give or take a couple of minutes…" Rodney added.

Sheppard rolled his eyes.

"Alright, just be careful. Weir out."

The wormhole shut down shortly afterwards and Sheppard looked at everyone on board. "Let's go check out the planet. Now that we know what's what, might as well find ourselves a ZPM." Sheppard crossed the barrier one more time and vectored in on his original course.

"Bingo! Pre-industrial pollution," Rodney declared to the entire Puddle Jumper after a few minutes. "We might have another society trying to hide its advancements from the Wraith."

"Well, I guess if they have grass huts, they're just a nice façade to keep others from expecting too much. I'd want to keep the manufacture or stockpile of ZPM's hidden myself," Sheppard conjectured. "But still, a Jumper might make them suspicious, jealous, or nervous. We can approach on foot and sniff out their intentions and then they can sniff out ours." He gave his most charming smile impressing no one in the Jumper.

"Mmm, yes, let's not trip over hidden bunkers and nuclear reactors before they're ready to graciously and openly show us," retorted McKay as he studied more read-outs.

"Since this is a space Ring, they probably don't get any off-world visitors," Ronon added.

"Let's also hope they don't shoot and steal all our stuff first, and then ask us what our business is," McKay said as he turned in his chair to look at each member of his team.

"Precisely," Sheppard agreed. "So caution is the word of the day. Speaking of which, any other readout about that temporal barrier?"

"No."

The ship descended through the clouds as Rodney checked and rechecked systems. "No nothing. If it was supposed to impede us or leave a residual on any of the sensors, it didn't." They plunged through the clouds until a land mass appeared.

"Looks like the southern half of the continent has the largest population and the heaviest concentration of pollution. It's definitely manmade and not atmospheric or geologic in nature," Rodney reported to everyone.

"Any sign of Ancestral technology, Dr. McKay?" Teyla calmly inquired.

"No, but that doesn't mean it's not there."

_That is where the mission went wrong_, McKay thought with his hands on his head and his ankles crossed. The antiquated musket aimed at his precious noggin did not help either. Their hosts were not so much hiding and waiting anymore as being down right ignorant of aid and comfort. _Can I call it or what? _he thought as he sighed quietly.

Next, Sheppard had said, "OK, first, we do the Star Trek mode of surveillance type of thing. We watch, we listen, and we remain hidden."

If they had only kept to doing just that, because Sheppard had jinxed himself with the next statement.

"As we have encountered in the past: high tech equals skittish, feral, and protective inhabitants."

As McKay pondered this bit of ignored wisdom, Ronon laid face down in the grass as armored soldiers checked him. He must be losing his touch, because they had uncovered most of Ronon's grandmother's antique sterling knife set hidden in every conceivable piece of clothing.

_Don't check the hair. **Please**, don't check the hair, _Rodney thought to himself. From what Sheppard had said, Ronon's hair was like having a Swiss Army knife and those were very useful in any situation. Although, if offered any forks or spoons to eat with from that gnarled mess of dead cells, McKay would decline the offer.

He let his eyes look at his other teammates where this army's version of medics encircled Teyla and Sheppard. At least, he hoped they were. They were probably blood letters at best. He wished Carson was here with Biro and every corpsman on Atlantis as they poked and prodded his teammates. Calling them Civil War re-enactors had been a little too generous.

The team had blundered into an invading army. Teyla had gone down while helping him to pull the colonel to the relative safety of a roadside ditch. Her wound was a through and through located in her lower side luckily missing anything vital or so Rodney fervently hoped. Ronon had been providing suppression fire, apparently just not enough or in the right area. Once he took a hit to the leg, they had to surrender. Rodney only had a flesh wound on his forehead. _Only_, that was a laugh. These revolutionaries, crusaders, or whatever they wanted to be called came within millimeters and a bad trajectory of leaking his brains out onto the ground.

Sheppard on the other hand had gone down first like a sack of sand-- a lifeless sack of sand spilling its red contents all over the road. Even better, Sheppard was not completely unconscious, just a delirious, gasping and choking casualty on the side of the roadway.

_Not enough oxygen, _thought Rodney. _Not enough oxygen or blood getting to his brain._

One of the last things Sheppard had said before they started the aerial survey was, "Let's see what we can see."

Rodney decided he had seen enough.

----------------

"Sheppard!" Col. Newton shouted over the blades of the helicopter. "Let's go meet the rest of the team!"

John handed him a head set and waited for the colonel to buckle up.

"First off Sheppard, call me Newt. Col. Newton is for formal or tactical times only." Sheppard did a double take. "Sir?"

"Captain, you're going to be my lifeline, my back-up, and my transportation. I need you to understand that without you, my mission is a failure."

"_Yes, failure Sheppard, right now this is **not **a successful mission!"_

"I could have gotten some Army pilot, but the buzz around the water cooler is that you're the man to go to for insurmountable odds and a chance for success. Also, I know your old man. Any son who could stand up to that…that cantankerous human being is the man for me."

"_He's not listening McKay, and yes, you are cantankerous…"_

Sheppard smiled at the colonel as the helicopter lifted up and swayed from side to side. They usually did not do that. They shook, they dipped, they may even plummet with a strong enough down draft, but swaying side to side like a hay ride was not standard. He almost wanted to set her down and start over.

The colonel had other plans. "Captain, let's get to know one another on our way to MacDill."

----------------

The wagon bumped and swayed; the animals stank; and his teammates continued to bleed. Sheppard kept talking to some officer and commenting on nothing in particular. Wherever he was, he was engaged in small talk. It was annoying the hell out of McKay for no other reason than he could not get answers to his jabs at the man. Delirious was no condition in which to make banter with a friend.

Rodney also realized he had guessed wrong or, more accurately, had hoped wrong. They were not medics just soldiers in the Dame's army checking the infidels. It was up to him to provide care.

"…MacDill…" Sheppard feebly rasped out.

Rodney tried to bandage Teyla while Ronon held Sheppard up to ease his breathing. A lot of good it did with a hole in his chest. The musket shot had found the V in the neck of the vest and made a lovely hole in Sheppard's black shirt and lung. Blood burbled and dripped with his saliva with each gurgle. Rodney looked back down at Teyla.

"Looks like we landed into the middle of an offensive," Ronon commented as he looked at the guards surrounding the caged wagon. "Looks like they only just arrived."

"I think we might've noticed an entire regiment on the way to the town earlier since they are on the same road we took," Rodney answered with his quiet, calm and derisive tone. "I think interrupted is a more precise description of what happened."

Ronon had cut an impressive figure firing his weapon trying to give them cover. Too bad Teyla had been taken down by a lucky shot from an antiquated musket or they might have made it to the ditch. Their attackers actually had to reload by hand. Bags of gun powder, shot, wadding and a stick with which to tamp it all down. Low tech always turned out to be just as deadly as high tech if the users were skilled and they outfitted enough of them.

The team surrendered because there was no way to make it to the ditch and nowhere for them to go. They had been cut off and surrounded. The Jumper was still too far away and the Gate another thirty minutes by air (accounting for the temporal fluctuations of the barrier). Sheppard and Teyla were fading agonizingly slow making the ride in the wagon just that much more stressful. This whole trip had been a colossal waste of time and energy. And, now, that precious energy was flowing onto the floor of the cramped wagon.

Before the ambush, they had concluded their surveillance and decided to move on to the inevitable introductions, Sheppard and McKay settled on the smog ridden small city. The city turned out to be a viper's nest of corruption. Brothels, drug dens, gambling houses, and their own version of the Bada Bing Club lined narrow, stinking streets. Animal feces and refuse were strewn in the streets and alleyways. Open sewers added to the aroma of the actual cobblestone. Rodney had commented even if they have a dozen ZedPM's, they would need to be disinfected before crossing the threshold of the Jumper. Atlantis still might go into quarantine mode when they came back just from the stench alone.

They met immediately with the head commissioner of the city who laughed in their faces about the Wraith.

"Old stories to keep the religious in line. More Pondering sensationalism? You aren't dressed as clerics, why talk as such?" he scoffed at them as he circled his well appointed office.

The man's rich dress spoke of his wealth. His manners spoke of power. His words spoke of his ignorance. He dismissed them after the arguments and reasoning went into circles. As they walked out onto the steps of the city offices, he yelled to the populace about the doomsayers. The milling crowd stopped and hurled fruit at them. The rotted produce soon followed, and then other stuff, which Rodney did not even want to contemplate, narrowly missed their eyes. Thank God, no one pushed them into the open sewers. Sheppard herded them out of Little Vegas and did not look back.

"Well, that could have gone better," the Colonel said as he wiped overripe juice from the side of his face. "And for once McKay, I'm not going to tease you about your Wet Ones." He held out his hand demanding one.

"Yes, Sodom and Gomorrah there is going to have a rude awakening in about four days of our time. Time's sped up here, so maybe about two weeks for them. And get your own."

"I don't understand their complacency. The Wraith are obviously in their lore," commented Teyla. "Unless, to them, it happened so many generations ago, it is not relevant." She accepted a wet wipe graciously and began wiping her hands.

Rodney smirked at Sheppard as he made a show of handing her the amply-sized square. _See what you could've had if you'd been nice_, Rodney thought.

"It'll be relevant very soon," answered Ronon as he picked the skin of some other food item out the gnarled dead cells on the top of his head. He stopped short of sniffing it before throwing it on the ground. To McKay's astonishment, he accepted a wet wipe as well.

"Traitor," mumbled Sheppard under his breath as he searched his pockets. He finally came upon a small, moist towelette.

Ronon smiled deviously back at him.

Sheppard snarled a lip at his large teammate and then looked down the road. "We can try another village…"

"Yeah, because that worked so well this time," snapped McKay.

Unflustered, Sheppard continued, "According to the sensors, there might be one just the other way and, if that doesn't work, then, well, we'll do what we always do…" He finished wiping what he could off his face and hands with the little square.

"Get Rodney to save the day?" McKay stated thumping his clean fingertips off of his chest.

"Exactly," agreed Sheppard with his smug grin in place. "And sneak around until we find what we're looking for."

They never got the chance to warn anyone else. They got ambushed at the fork in the road to the Jumper. Sheppard had even stopped to scan the tree line seconds before the first dead-on shot. Rodney was just removing the LSD when Ronon moved forward.

"I've got movement," reported Ronon in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, me too." Sheppard turned to give hand signals and a single shot dropped him like that wet bag of sand.

There was no time to do anything but give cover fire, scream at Ronon and Teyla, and watch them get hit by live fire. As McKay felt the sting of a ball going by his forehead, he knew they had to surrender. There was nothing left to do. There would be no ZedPM's, no getting to the Jumper, no making any ground breaking discoveries to lead them into the future-- just blood, lots of blood soaking into the dirt path and shimmering on the grass next to it.

Rodney wiped the blood from his eyes and looked at the leader of the medieval attackers before him. The head soldier man had righteously asked him if he surrendered in the name of the Dame of Antiquity, the Protectoress' Divine Orator here on this earth.

Rodney had replied, "Sure, whatever." He just wanted to help his teammates. He wanted to stop the flow of blood. He did not get to until they were on the wagon. The righteous army of the Protectoress graciously allowed him to keep their first aid kits and field bandages because they were not the wretched, unclean citizens of the city, just wretched, unclean people in general.

Fat lot of good it would do him.

-------------------


	3. Ch 2: Songs Not Finished

Chapter 2

Songs Not Finished

Sheppard's hand scratching at the straw on the floor of the wagon fascinated Rodney. His fingers dug into the dust and dirt underneath the layer of straw and created ruts. His wrist rolled repetitively left and right as if it were using a joystick. The motions made Rodney want to grab the hand and hold it. It was not an action he would have even considered just a year ago. When had he become so sentimental and soft? When had he become so touchy feely?

Oh say, maybe, about the time he realized he had honest to God, real friends?

In heart wrenching turns, Sheppard's eyes opened and closed; his legs drew in towards his body and then kicked out hitting the rear door to the enclosure; and his breathing would rattle and gargle only to temporarily even out as Ronon shifted him. Rodney waited for Sheppard to recognize any of them only for him not to. Rodney played nurse maid to the three and felt a little untoward jealousy for Ronon as he propped the Colonel up against his chest…and Rodney would never own up to having that particular feeling-- ever.

He had to laugh at himself, because he would never have felt anything like that if it were not for his team. Bandaging would have weirded him out just a few short years ago-- now it was like old hat. Blood, until he met this accident prone group of people, usually made him fai…pass out. Not anymore. Even the physical contact phobia was lessening. Funny how for 36 years he had kept himself isolated from any sort of attachment on a planet full of billions of people. It took an expedition isolated from everything he had ever known and the friendship of a throttle jockey and a medicine man to cultivate actual feelings for and relationships with other human beings. That included Conan and Xena.

The sway of the wagon had lulled him into this morose state. Three guards dressed in armored chest plates and helmets flanked each side of the wagon. They marched with muskets over shoulders and thick soled boots on the hard packed earth. Swords hung from belts and small daggers finished off the outfit. They would not speak even after Rodney accused them of being the fatherless whores of the Wraith. Ronon had suggested that particular insult. They were worse than Beefeaters outside of the Queen's Palace.

This group's probable assault on the city could still go off as planned, because the fork in the road was far enough away that no one would have seen or heard anything. The sound might have carried, but from the lack of dependable law and order in the city, no one would have come or even cared. When he finally sat back down on the straw, he sat Indian style. Lastly, he lifted Teyla's head and put it on the very top of the inside of his thigh.

He was such a softy.

"Can you see where they're taking us?" Teyla asked in the weakest voice possible.

"The opposite way of the Jumper. This is probably the group of people we picked up on the HUD and thought they were another city or settlement of some sort. We're a good four kilometers from where they ambushed us." Rodney leaned back against the bars to see around the driver while Ronon sat perpendicular to him against the back of the wagon. He held Sheppard up and kept watch out the back door.

The mobile cage rattled on for only a few more minutes until bright colors flashed through the trees as they approached a clearing. A camp of forty or fifty blue and purple striped tents appeared as they rounded a bend. Large primitive machines, similar to catapults, were lined up outside of the circle of tents. Horse like creatures brayed and stomped the ground in a livery area with wagons parked close. Swords, crossbows, and other unidentifiable weapons leaned against racks. This was an army settling in for a siege.

"Staging area," whispered Ronon.

"No, really, ya think?" McKay sneered back.

"Yes, I do think," Ronon answered, not phased.

The wagon pulled up to the center of the circle and a woman in the same armor, except with a few more embellishments adorning it, approached them.

"Teomin, what have you brought us? Converts or fodder?" She yelled. Her hair was cut close to her head and she looked for all the world like what Joan of Arc should have. The metal on her chest had flowery scroll work etched into it. She held her golden helmet with a single plume protruding from the top under her arm and stopped just steps away from the wagon.

The head soldier man answered her, "My Mistress, we found these unclean pilgrims leaving the city. They saw us, so we had to apprehend them." Teomin gave his report looking at the ground with absolute reverence.

"Fodder then. Remove them and let's have a look." She motioned to the men guarding the rear of the caged wagon to open it up.

The back of the cage was opened and Sheppard's ankles roughly grabbed. Ronon held onto him in protest.

"_I'll _take him out," Ronon demanded with a voice full of scorn and warning. Swords poked through the bars and held him in place. Sheppard was then pulled the rest of the way out and carried to a spot on the grass. With a sword aimed at Rodney, Teyla was swiftly removed next.

Two women without armor approached the pair and began probing the wounds. They lifted arms, placed hands on chests, looked in eyes and mouths and lifted bandages. Rodney and Ronon were led to a spot just a couple of meters away and restricted by swords and crossbows.

"What are you doing? I just put that there!" Rodney yelled as the obviously incompetent yokel removed the strip of gauze and tape over Sheppard's air sucking wound. As Sheppard's breathing gargled and rattled, Rodney grew more and more agitated. "Sit him up! He can't breathe you backward-assed cretins!"

McKay promptly received a blow from the butt end of some weapon to the middle of his upper back. He staggered forward a step or two but regained his balance without help. Ronon whirled around on the assailant and came face to bolt with a crossbow. After giving a glare to the man, Rodney turned back around in time to see one of the other soldiers drawing his dagger and hovering over Sheppard.

"My Mistress Tangred, our healing arts will not save this unclean man. We cannot allow him to remain here for he will slow us down." The man knelt on one knee next to Sheppard.

"So be it," Tangred answered.

_No, no, no, no, _Rodney yelled in his head. Every muscle in the teammate next to him coiled. Teyla tried to sit up and intercede. She reached for Teomin.

"In mercy, we send you to the Protectoress," Teomin began.

Teyla lunged forward from her position on the ground to be held back by one of the healers. Ronon shoved his guards. Rodney continued to freak out in his head demanding that his smarter than the average brain think of what to do.

Ignoring the team's struggles, Teomin placed the tip of the dagger in between Sheppard's pectoral muscles and spoke loudly, "May her guidance and love expedite the journey to the next tier of the eternal layer."

"NO! NO! NO!" Rodney finally screamed out loud. "You can't!" Armored guards held Ronon and him in place on the green grass. Wind lifted the tents flaps and they billowed egging the armor clad cretin on as if saying, _Hurry up!_

Teomin's left hand held the handle and his right palm was firmly placed on the end. "In the name of the Ancestors…"

"Terminal rites!" Teyla pleaded holding herself up on her forearms. "We must perform our own rites!" Any color and strength was draining from her fast. "_Please_."

As if all of the commotion had tapped the man on the shoulder, Sheppard opened his eyes and looked right at Teyla. A small smile formed on his mouth, but Rodney was not sure if it was recognition. _Go back to sleep, _he thought. Sheppard's hand still moved opening and closing, most likely flying some unseen craft.

_Please go back to sleep. Don't watch them kill you. _Rodney swallowed and continued to plead fervently with his friend in his head.

"Unacceptable," Mistress Tangred replied and nodded to Teomin, who had paused, to continue with the mercy killing.

"WHAT!" Rodney shouted.

Ronon struggles increased and he roared, "STOP!"

Nothing swayed the decision. The machine was in motion. Archaic and repugnant practices were underway. The knife pricked into the black shirt waiting for the final plunge.

Teomin took in a loud breath and let it out while steadying his hand for a clean thrust. "With a blade so sacred, I send you, because all who are saved, are welcomed."

Rodney closed his eyes as Ronon howled and Teyla continued to plead, all ignored.

"Teomin, Tangred, she is correct," an authoritative, female voice declared from behind Rodney and Ronon.

Rodney's eyes flew open and his teammates' resistance stopped.

"Dame Anasta," Teomin (or the asshole getting ready to serve up Sheppard's heart) breathed with awe. He immediately halted, removed the dagger, and averted his eyes.

With the arrival of the Dame, Rodney and Ronon were unceremoniously shoved into the ground. "Dame Anasta is present, you will grovel before her," a gruff voice commanded with spittle hitting Rodney's ear.

"Dame, he's not of the Ponderers," stated Mistress Tangred. "His ways matter not."

"No, he's not-- please, everyone, stand up, we are tired of looking at the top of everyone's head-- but are we not here to save the sinners; those that've fallen by the wayside?"

After his captors allowed him to rise, Rodney saw the Dame kneel on one knee next to Sheppard. She wore a white tunic trimmed in red with blood red leggings. Her boots were up to the top of her calf and made of leather-like material. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun like his Gramma used to have. Of most importance to Rodney, over the tunic, she wore a similar chest plate to the others, but this one held the image of an Atlantian computer crystal of sapphire pink etched into it. She was the very image of a warrior priestess and Ancient worshipper.

She looked down at the colonel and sighed. "You're correct, Teomin, we can't help him. Peo, Fil, how is the woman?"

The two medics holding Teyla dipped their heads in respect before answering, "She is weak, but has a good chance of recovery with our help."

The Dame reached into a pocket in her tunic as she asked, "What of the other two?"

"The large one will need care. The smaller one is uninjured," one of them replied.

Indignation overtook his mouth. "Uninjured! You nearly took my head…"

"Shut up, McKay," Ronon whispered in the most ferocious whisper ever made.

Rodney was once again face planted into the loam. "Speak only when spoken to or I shall cut that tongue from your head," his guard whispered in the most savage whisper ever made.

The pea-headed guard stood him back up just so he could watch the Dame pronounce sentence on his friend. From the pocket in her tunic, she removed a device Rodney was relieved to see, but only for a very short time. She held a medical scanner just like the one Carson used out in the field, except this piece of equipment did not light up with her touch. These people or, at the very least, the Dame did not have the gene. A plan formed in his head, because that little scanner might save their lives if his assumptions were correct.

"Protectoress, welcome this one to the light. We could not help him here on this plane. We send him to you as is merciful tradition," she murmured the prayer while waving the device over the Colonel.

Rodney was correct. It was a religious symbol or relic just like the crystal etched into her armor was an icon. He gathered all of his courage.

"That's it?" screamed Rodney. "You're kidding me! What about giving it the old college try? We have ways to heal him. Let us take him home!" He intensified his struggles when Teomin replaced the blade over Sheppard's heart.

"You're making a big mistake! You don't understand who he is!" Rodney went limp in the guards arm catching the brute off guard. Then with a sudden jerk, he launched himself right at the Dame.

Ronon and Teyla both shouted, "NO!"

Rodney knocked her on top of Sheppard. When she caught herself, the scanner connected with Sheppard's bare arm on the other side of his body . Her body pushed Teomin away along with the dagger. Rodney ended up flat on his back with more than one sword aimed at every conceivable place on his body. But, he had accomplished his maneuver.

The bare arm did what the magical touch of John Sheppard usually did to Ancient devices. The medical scanner fell in love and revealed why John Sheppard was in the Pegasus Galaxy in the first place.

-----------------

"The other members of the team are: Lt. Ed Sessions, Sgt. Park Trammel, Sgt. Jeff Roberts and Sgt. John Thomas. Captain, you're our lifeline; you're our only transportation; I hope you can tell time…" The colonel gave John a quick sideways look under the dark glasses or so he thought because of the quick head movement.

Sheppard gave a small laugh in return. "As long as it's digital, those big and small hands get so confusing…"

Newton gave an appreciative nod. "We'll be training in Georgia, so we're just meeting the men in Tampa. You're our chauffer for the next few months and will take us wherever we need to go." Newton twisted in his seat to get a better view of his pilot. "There's only one thing you need to remember-- I'm the first one off this bird and the last one on. My mission begins when my boot hit's the ground and ends when my toe leaves the last blade of grass or the last kernel of sand."

Sheppard looked at this leader of men with a sense of awe and confusion. "So, my flight isn't part of the mission? It's invisible to the enemy?"

"You misunderstand, Captain. My mission starts when my delicate black boot flattens the grass. Your mission begins when your ass hits the seat and it ends when your delicate black boot hits the tarmac safely back at base."

"Aah, I see, sir." Sort of, he thought. This officer was…well, different.

As the helicopter flew, the Gulf of Mexico sparkled below as the afternoon sun reflected off of it. The white beaches ribboned along the aquamarine waves like a yellow brick road of white. The sand led him down a narrow path to Oz as a disembodied head looked at him. It was a woman.

"Sir? Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"What are we doing?"

"Going to help a friend," was all he said as he watched the sun-sparkled waters.

"Help? That could mean many things."

"Patience, Grasshopper. All will be revealed," Newton retorted in his best Key Luke voice.

As they flew overhead, white foam followed little boats out for a day on the water. The twin stacks of Crystal River approached which meant there was only another fifteen or twenty minutes until he would meet the rest of this selective group.

After they touched down and went through the post flight checks, he opened the door to the cockpit. A sudden blast of heat from the open door reminded him that, _oh right, I'm in Florida. _The colonel waited for him and led him to a single story building. It was also institutional perfection. They approached a desk and the colonel handed papers to the young adjutant.

"Col. Daniel Newton and Capt. John Sheppard to see Col. James Barr."

The adjutant inspected the papers and finally looked up after an overly drawn out perusal. "Yes, everything seems in order. You're team is already assembled and waiting in Conference Room A."

"_NO! NO! NO!"_

Sheppard stopped and turned around searching the office area for that grinding voice. He put his hand just under his neck and over his heart, massaging an ache forming there. The heat impeded his breathing once again, stopping him from walking down a narrow hallway. His hand opened and closed, aching from gripping the throttle a little too tightly.

The institutional perfection wavered as all of the windows and desks retreated and the woman's face misted into view for a second time. She was singing him a sad, beautiful song. One such as that should never sound that mournful. He knew her. For a second, things fell into order and he was not there, but here. Yet, here was not where he wanted to be. He also wondered if they had dated or if she was a one night stand? But, either one of those assumptions felt all wrong, because she was too important.

"Captain! You coming?" Newton asked waiting for him in front of an open door.

"Yes sir," Sheppard called back as the face left slipping into a hazy mist of memories just out of reach. The hallway closed in once again sealing her off from him with the song not finished.

The colonel and he entered a conference room where all of the occupants were shouting and yelling, "Oh no, no, no! You've got to be kidding me? You still took her home?" and other such things. It was probably a conversation of much lewd interest. Too bad they were about to interrupt such juicy gossip.

"Attention!" someone yelled.

Newton walked in with a welcoming and friendly smile. He nodded and made eye contact with everyone in the room. He turned around and grinned, "Capt. John Sheppard, meet the men."

Scratching his chest first, John took in their blank faces. Featureless, the group greeted the pair as they entered the small conference room. He returned the salutes thinking that there was nothing odd about that at all.

He just wanted to find the girl. But not just the girl…there were others.

And then, the picture sharpened and everything changed.

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_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and clicking on this story. With the system down, just had to let you know that taking the time to read my little tale is very much appreciated!_


	4. Ch 3: I Like Toast!

Chapter 3

I Like Toast!

Rodney closed his eyes and waited for the swords to skewer him like an olive in a martini. When nothing happened and the entire place went uncharacteristically silent, he opened his eyes and could not believe the scene set before him. He had dreamed of this moment all of his life and here it was…

Everyone prostrated themselves before him, which at just about any other time or any other day would have been the cat's meow. It was even a nose flat in the grass, arms outstretched, and not moving a single muscle prostrate. It included everyone in the encampment bestowing complete adoration upon them, including him, which was too little, too late.

It _was _today, however, and today sucked on toast with a side of bacon and he needed to save his friends' lives, if that was even possible. On the upside, the swords had been sheathed and no longer touched his skin. The rejects from King Arthur's Court had let Ronon go and the imbecile twins had released Teyla to join all of the others flat in the grass. Both of his teammates were making their way toward Sheppard by crawling on hands, knees and bellies. Rodney decided the scanner was not doing any good in the Mistress of Camelot's hand, so he took it from her with nary a word.

Hark and forsooth…eth.

When the beautiful little piece of technology sprang to life with his touch, Anasta looked on in awe and spoke with breathless reverence, "Messengers. The messengers have returned."

Rodney would have been incredibly interested in her ramblings if the readings registering on the now ugly, little piece of technology would have given him better news. Sheppard would not last until Rodney could make it to the Puddle Jumper let alone fly to Atlantis.

"Ronon, can you hold him up? He can't breath." Rodney stared forlornly at the readings and then at his teammates. He did not need to say anything; they had become very good at reading his face, which stunk when he played poker. Sheppard's deflated lung, punctured by one of the people now lying flat out in the field of canvas and grass, had killed him. Maybe he was not quite dead yet, but he soon would be.

Teyla scooted over and took Sheppard's hand and sang softly. She started with her eyes down and then let them and her voice rise. The song must have roused their leader for a moment, because once again he looked at Teyla, but this time he gave her a small and shy smile.

"We have killed messengers…harbingers…we are as unworthy as the unclean….we…" Dame Anasta stopped and sat on her knees and implored him with her eyes to allow her to help. "We can take him to the shrine. There, the Protectoress can welcome him back to her fold. Save him for rebirth. It is all we can offer."

_Rebirth? _Rodney looked at the scanner and then back at her. He smirked as his brain put a few things together. "This shrine, did you get this from there?" He waved the scanner in front of her face.

"Yes, I left mine back at the monastery. It is only a relic in my hands but in yours…"

"Yes, yes, yes…where's the shrine and can you get him there yesterday?" He had no time for misplaced idolatry. Sheppard had no time and Teyla's was also running out.

The Dame looked at him questioningly and then acted without speaking the question. "Teomin, Tangred, have your men take the divine messenger to the Shrine of the Little Flower."

They both looked up with dirt smudged on their faces and grass stuck to various facial parts. They did not move.

Dame Anasta looked at Rodney and bowed her head asking for his permission.

_Any other time, any other place_, he thought. "Get up and help him…and her," he said pointing at Sheppard and Teyla, respectively. He also knew they would have to spill the beans about just who they were at some point, but now was not that point. At least, not until Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon were cared for by this shrine. He had a feeling about the Shrine of the Hay Fever. This planet was a possible research and production facility so certain things were always a necessity. As he liked to remind everyone ad nauseum, he was a genius.

Sheppard was transferred to a litter as was Teyla. They were carried like the precious cargo they were to a building with all the earmarks of the Ancients. God, he loved really good hunches. A tap on the forearm disturbed him as he assisted Ronon to the shrine while grumbling about the delicate alignment of his back and how it would not be in that alignment after this.

Dame Anasta, looking very apologetic, waved her arm at the flattened masses. "Please," she simply said.

"Oh…well…yes…everybody, you can stand up now. You're absolved of sin or whatever." Rodney waved his hand as if he was swatting flies and continued on as bodies rose to follow the procession.

He stepped up to the door to the flat-roofed and composite building. The Ancients always made their buildings look like stone on planets with humans. When in reality, it was all manufactured, synthetic materials. The door slid open easily and that did not seem to shock anyone. When he stepped in and the lights came on…well, the gasps were not totally unexpected, but everyone going flat on the ground again was.

"Oh for heaven's sake get up, I need your help not your adoration…" Now he felt like God in Monty Python yelling at his worshippers.

Ronon's quiet guffaw did not help.

The lit torches lining the walls were now completely unnecessary unless they wanted to continue with a more gothic feel. And what in the hell was up with his study of the aesthetics of design…had to be Sheppard's fault or Teyla's influence…maybe Rourke in engineering…form and function…

He shook his head and looked around the interior. This was exactly what he was looking for, a medical facility. Every big, secret weapons' and/or armaments' facility on Earth had one, because there were always accidents. The good old infirmary surged to life before him with familiarity and alien-ness holding each other's hand.

"Put him on that bed there," McKay directed putting his imperial tone to good use. "Put her over there."

Carson, where was Carson to drool over the equipment and save the day? On Atlantis, the big doof. Didn't anyone realize that any planet they were likely to visit could call, 'Shenanigans,' and beat them about the head and shoulders with anything available, including the guns that looked like Kentucky Long Rifles these people used with deadly accuracy?

He was sidetracking and mentally splintering from worry. He was working on no food and lots of stress- story of his life- but right now he needed to regain control. Ronon's hand on his shoulder centered his thoughts and Rodney went about the process of saving his team.

"Beds?" the litter bearers asked.

He wheeled around and it struck him why they were asking. "The altars, put them on the altars." He almost said it without the mental "_idiots" _tagged on the end- almost.

He studied a console in the middle of the facility. Eight beds (or altars) were placed around the enlarged podium. The inside of the one room structure was minimalist, and as he studied the text and read instructions, he realized this was an evac site. A triage and emergency facility to evacuate injured to a waiting ship of which there was not one in orbit.

Radek had been right on one aspect: it was a production facility. Unfortunately, this computer was not directly linked to any other computers, probably a safety measure. So, it did not inform him of whatever this this place used to do or used to be. It left the specifics of what it produced unanswered. However, the list of common injuries suggested it was definitely the production of something intricate and dangerous.

However, that mystery was for later. Hopefully, it would lead to ZedPMs. _Please,_ he pleaded with the great and powerful Oz, _Let it be ZPM's to make this all worth while_.

He looked at the console and let his fingers do the walking. Obviously, the designers had anticipated novices using the equipment, because emergencies were like that with any civilization. It provided a tutorial to stabilize the injured or, in this case, the wounded.

All of the planet's dwellers, who could squeeze inside of the building, stood back and watched in rapt silence. Once again, Rodney thought that he would ordinarily think of this situation as nirvana. Today, he had plummeted to the opposite end of the spectrum. All he needed was for them to don pitchforks.

The green lights scanned, provided vitals, catalogued the injuries, and recommended temporary measures. As he thought, it was a triage center just to get the injured to a more secured site and away from the planet. Whatever was here was big, problem solving big. They did not want anyone staying if need be. He set the ball rolling and initiated the temporary measures because Sheppard was not breathing on his own anymore and Teyla's blood loss was worse than he had anticipated. But, he paused at the mode of treatment, because they did not need anymore complications.

Nanites.

"Why did it have to be nanites?" Rodney whispered.

Looking waxen himself, Ronon leaned in. "_What?"_

"The equipment uses nanites," replied Rodney.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Tell me they're programmed," insisted Ronon.

Rodney grimaced. "They are. And specifically for healing purposes, so no aneurisms. No creating a synthetic form of life. No replication."

"That's good," Ronon said softly.

They both continued to stare at the screen for a few more seconds.

"Get on that bed over there," Rodney finally ordered breaking their trance. "You need your daily dose as well."

Ronon did a double-take before lying down on one of the beds. Rodney followed the same procedure and soon little robots started to heal Ronon's leg. He checked the monitors of the other two. Teyla's gun shot wound was also under repair and she was drastically improving. Last and definitely not least, Sheppard was inundated with metallic bugs, but stable and also improving. Rodney sure as hell did not want to tell him about the little bugs being in his body when he woke up. He would let Ronon tell him. The little nurse's station would prolong his life until they could make it to the Jumper and that was what mattered.

Now that the unwashed and armored masses had seen such great power they would surely let them go or, at the very least, treat them better than livestock in the back of the cart. With that thought, he turned around from the console and looked directly at the Dame. Of course, now he realized that he was alone with all the crazy Ancient worshippers. He thought he had better give an all-knowing update and project an all-powerful presence. It was now time to use his self-heralded leadership skills.

"Now all they need is a little time," he said--

--and promptly passed out.

-------------------

His view of the world around him changed into a comic strip. Everything seemed inked with a black outline to clarify the surreal stage before him. He stood on the outside of the picture as Col. Barr entered and got right down to business. All five foot nine inches of him required silence and received it without saying a word. He explained that they were going in to rescue a man caught behind enemy lines. At the time, John did not realize that they had enemy lines, but then all of the enemies kind of shuffled through his head and realized there must have been lines.

Listening to the colonel talk, John knew for certain that he was seeing this for a reason. He was somewhere else and not in the Florida heat. He needed to find the woman and the worried face. He had to get back to his team. He looked over at Newton and Newton gave him a small nod.

This dream was shiny and clear. HDTV of dreaming. John realized he had already lived this. This was not just a dream but a memory. He had become the outside observer and could see his first real group of comrades in arms. The hallucination had ended and _This is Your Life_ had started. He might as well go along with it and see where it led.

The detached debrief was quick and to the point. The rest of the men had worked together before and John was the only one out of the loop. All too quickly, John was lifting off the ground to ferry the faceless team to Georgia. However, he knew these men. They should not be masked from him. This told him they were unimportant to what ever story being told.

The vision plowed on and John played his part.

Col. Newton waited until they were air born before speaking. "We will be running simulations and drills until we can do this in a comatose sleep. You will also be practicing until you will want to rethink your love of flying."

Sheppard snorted. _Not likely_, he thought. "Understood, sir."

Newton then addressed everyone in the helicopter. "We have three weeks to get this right, ladies."

More snorts came over the headsets. They all understood. From the first morning he had started the drills, John loved every moment. It seemed they did it from sun up to sundown and then did it from sundown to sun up. He had never trained for a mission so hard in all of his life. The camaraderie between the team and him was tight. They lived in each other's business and John rarely had a chance for that type of interaction. He appreciated their tentative acceptance that developed into a genuine attachment. However, he still did not let his guard down, because the shoe was hanging. They would know nothing of his family and previous life, but they knew everything of his current life, at the time.

The shoe dropped with a loud deafening thud after two and a half weeks of constant training. The mission was called off. The "friend" did not need rescuing. The "friend" had been killed. The let down was like losing the big game. The details were sketchy. The "friend" was a spy (big, no kidding, there) and simply got caught. And from Newton's reaction, he knew the person.

"I'm proud of the effort each of you have put into this endeavor. I'm proud to have served with each and every one of you." Col. Newton looked at each face in the room. "Your new orders will be given to you by the end of the day. Thank you…for everything."

Everyone saluted and left except for John. Newton turned to him and nodded his head. "You're a hell of a pilot, Captain. Knew I was right about you. Shame we wasted about two weeks of your time. But I have one job left for you…"

Sheppard cocked his head and raised both eyebrows. "Sir?" This was not real. This was a strange vision. He was sure of it.

Then, Colonel Daniel Newton split into two. And everything shifted as Georgia fell away and a large cavernous hangar replaced it. The voice bounced around in his skull like a broadcast.

"I need you to save Xerigor and I'm here to help."

-----------------

_A/N: Many apologies for the length in time of updates but hey, I got it put up. Whew! This chapter gave me problems and it took a while to iron them out. For better or worse, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all of the interest and hope you continue on with my little story._


	5. Ch 4: Death Takes a Hologram

Chapter 4

Death Takes a Hologram

"You're dead."

Sheppard stood in the middle of a large alien hangar that could have docked two or three Daedalus sized ships inside of it. Georgia was long gone along with its remembrances and ghosts. Furthermore, he was sweating and trying to see the apparition wavering before him through the perspiration stinging his eyes. There was also a lot of shivering, which could not bode well for his health. He pretty much felt like crap. But everything seemed so clear instead of that muddled tunnel that happened when you were sick.

"Jeff sent me an email. I finally got it two or, maybe, it's been three days ago, now," John added trying to make sense of what stood before him. He was trying to reaffirm his grasp of his current reality. He was trying to delineate crazy from sane.

The mission had been just a memory spurred by that death. He had already lived it about seven or eight years ago. He never knew who the friend was. He never saw any of those guys again. They had kept in touch electronically with a few interspersed phone calls. Most of them were now out of the service and working in the real world. They had families and lived outside of the United States military. Most had escaped into complete normalcy.

"You had cancer and died of pneumonia about two months ago. You are not Col. Newton…or wait, don't tell me you've ascended somehow?" Wouldn't that be it? The one CO he had had a really good report with would not be able to help in any capacity other than the cryptic. He would just stand there and spout advice like-- life is like a box of chocolates, because a crane's feather gives it weight. Cryptic and confusing and schizoid. Who talked like that anyway?

John Sheppard looked at the…the what exactly? He waited for an answer. He needed an answer.

Dead, dead, dead. Newton was dead. He was lying in a plot in Arlington. This was not the real Newton, but he acted so much like him. He acted like the first officer to take John under his wing and to attempt to make him a first rate officer. The first one to give him a chance at living up to higher expectations. Someone whom he really and truly respected. Someone who understood what John's father was all about and why they had mixed like oil and water. He had been a mentor.

Newton looked unsure. He shifted a couple of times before speaking. "Not ascension, just a sophisticated A.I., John. I'm piggy backing my signal on a few of the healing nanites in your system right now."

Relief, which turned to a look of horror on Sheppard's face, stopped the apparition cold. His last part of the statement had taken a moment strike home and Sheppard was trying not to panic.

"**_Nanites?"_**

"No, oh no." The A.I. held up his hands trying to placate John. "The nanites are not trying to take you over or steal any sort of secrets from you. You were wounded by the well-meaning citizens of this planet. These people are trying to do the best they can, but your people startled them."

"Startled them? That usually includes screaming like a sorority girl and flinging hands in the air. Not a…a…a whatever the hell happened to me." John's confusion and anger were simmering ready to reach the boiling point.

The A.I. stopped again and listened to an unknown whisperer. "In the chest. You are in a medical facility and they are repairing a penetrating wound to your upper chest…It's going quite well as a matter of fact." Col. Newton beamed trying to put a positive spin on this disquieting news. John was not buying it.

"That's just splendid. Score one for the good guys! Hallelujah! There are robotic bugs in _me_." Nanites, he hated nanites. Nothing good ever happened because of nanites. Nanites had tried to kill him and those he protected on a few too many occasions. "But I'm not on Atlantis or within the clutches of Carson, am I?

"Feeling a little overwhelmed? No, no you're not in the great city." The A.I. stepped closer. John stepped back. Apparitions of supposedly dead people could still mess with your head. "I took this appearance to put you at ease. I needed a friendly face and he was the friendliest in this scenario. I needed someone who was not likely to end up on this planet. As you said, he's dead…it seems my choice of introduction was in error."

"Well, I'll agree with ya there and actually," John retorted with a self-satisfied smirk, "Death isn't always a guarantee someone's not going to join you for a visit. You'd be surprised how often that happens in my line of work." He had read SG-1's reports and, hell, his own experiences were not too far behind on the weird-o-meter. Geez, Daniel Jackson was a born again human. Thalen and Phoebus were on the brink of death and still wreaked havoc. Chaya was an ascended being. A drop dead gorgeous ascended being…

"Anyway, John, let's get back to why I'm here, because my time is running short. You need to go back to Little Vegas or, as I know it, Xerigor. The enemy is on the way and we cannot let them know about this place. We cannot let them have this place."

"What kind of _place _is this?" John asked knowing McKay was about to have a complete orgasmic experience if Radek's hunch was right.

"Classified."

John narrowed his eyes. "Classified? You hijack a system to tell me, 'classified'?"

"I'm in sleep mode. Minimal power output. Your bio-signature reactivated a portion of my program and here I am. This is not a secure signal. So I say again, classified. In the past, the Wraith did not know that this facility was still operable. They have ignored the structures, just not the people."

"Nothing is ever easy," John replied while dragging his hand down the side of his face.

"Nothing good ever is…come back to the city and McKay can swoon from the all the goodies waiting for him there. Oh and John, since your people have activated the technology on this planet, I leave you with this thought-- what do you think the Wraith are going to do now? " With that, Col. Newton winked out of existence.

Standing there looking at the huge structure, John realized that the Wraith would probably get very curious about why there were energy readings from a dead complex.

"Oh crap."

The hangar started to fade and other images began to spring forth as John went back to his personal nightmares-- which was his normal dreaming.

-----------------

Dame Anasta, Purveyor of Antiquities, or something like that, sat next to Rodney just waiting. While Anasta was not a bad looking woman, her nose practically touching his gave her that odd seeing through a peephole look. She seemed to be searching for the answer to an important question at which Rodney could take a pretty good guess.

"You are flesh and bone," she stated evenly as she sat back on a bench. Apparently, she answered the question without his help.

Rodney scrunched up his face and started thinking, rationalizing and posturing. He had guessed right and needed to come up with the best answer. An answer that would not land them in some stinking pit, or in another cage, or in more trouble than they probably already were.

"Yes, I am." And hopefully, that was all right.

She shifted in her position on the bench and looked past his prone head. He sat himself up on his elbows and looked around. They were in a large wagon/carriage type of thing. The sway registered with his equilibrium as he saw each of his teammates lying on the floor of the wagon/carriage type of thing on top of furs and underneath more furs.

"All of you are like we who are so lowly. You were not sent by the Protectoress, were you?" She gave him a guarded look. A look that said, there is no wrong answer, but I had hoped you were from some on high deity come to breathe life into our cause. "You can return from whence you came. You would leave us?"

"Yes…no…aaand….yes. I need to return to our…um…our form of…our ship," he stuttered. He did not know if the pit was next or maybe just a nice simple beheading. He definitely was not going to answer the last question if he could help it. "It's the opposite way of where your perfectly paranoid, yet devoted, followers thoroughly ambushed us." He might as well go for broke. What could possibly get any worse…?

"We instructed our troops to eliminate any who saw them on the main road to the city. We could not have known that those blessed with the gifts of messengers would be exiting the corruption of our once holiest of places." She leaned back on the bench and rested against a nice comfy cushion. "We have failed in our mission and you are here to witness our failure."

"Oh…no, no, no….no. We just wanted to warn you of the culling…the Wraith are on their way here and this world came up in the da…we just wanted to warn you." He did not know how far to go in explanations and hoped his basic message of, 'we came to help' came across. He looked at Ronon sleeping so quietly. Teyla and Sheppard, lying with their heads towards Ronon and him, also slept peacefully.

"The Wraith? Do you speak of the Insubstantiate? The dark enemy of the Protectoress? They are real?"

Yes, it did seem the Wraith were in the lore. "Oh yes. They are not just folk lore; they are very real. We've dealt with them on a few occasions."

And shit. He did not have time for this, because he needed to check on all three of them with the medical scanner. The people had obviously removed them from the temple/infirmary. Who knew if the procedures were finished or if they had concluded correctly?

And, he was so exhausted.

And, wait a minute, since when did Ronon ever sleep quietly?

"I can tell you more later, but, for right now, do you still have the relic from the shrine?" Rodney asked, worried she didn't and hoping he wasn't screwed.

"Yes. I kept it safe. The altars finished their divine lifesaving measures and we are bringing all of you back with us." She handed him the scanner before she stuck her head out of the flap at the back of the wagon and called for someone.

Soon, the two blood letters entered the back of the wagon as it slowed down for a second.

"Peo and Fil will keep and eye on all of you. We are blessed to have you in our company." Anasta scooted down the bench and leaned against the back of the wagon and closed her eyes. He had pretty much told her the devil was coming to dinner and now she was probably going to meditate away on what they should do.

Rodney took the opportunity to check the others with Peo and Fil looking directly over his shoulder. Sheppard was stable, but not completely healed as Rodney had figured. There were no pain medications in his system and massive bruising still covered his chest at the wound site. Additionally, his head was slightly elevated to ease his breathing and he looked like he was peacefully resting. Teyla was also in a similar state of temporary healing. Rodney was sure her body would take care of the rest due to her Amazon woman lineage. All in all, they were doing much better than the last time he had seen them.

When Rodney scanned Ronon, he smirked. "Eavesdropping? You weren't loud enough to be in deep sleep…or in a light doze, might I add."

"You have no concept of intelligence gathering, do you McKay?" Ronon whispered cracking on eye open. "I was listening to the conversations outside as well as yours and the Dame's."

"You could hear them even over the Dame and me?"

Ronon rolled his eyes as he sat up on his elbows. "How are the others…and you?"

Rodney raised both of his eyebrows and snorted. "They're stable. They're unconscious. And all of us are getting farther and farther away from our…" He made a coughing sound as he said, "…Jumper."

"Very discreet, McKay," Ronon laughed in his low rumble. "Doesn't matter right now because we would not have made it back and Sheppard and Teyla would be dead. Let's just go were the river takes us…"

"Go with the flow…I see that saying is on more than one world."

"Not everything is about Earth, McKay."

No, no it wasn't. Right now it was all about this ass backwards, crusader filled, and obnoxious planet. It was about getting back home. And it was about saving whatever was here from the Wraith and saving those idiots living in the city and the rest of the people on this mud ball. Mercifully, that seemed to coincide with saving their own carcasses.

McKay had kept a discreet eye (and yes, he could be discreet when necessary) on the architecture underneath all of the hovels and shacks as they walked the streets of Sin City. The main government offices backed right up to a very large edifice that was hidden under grime and soot and God knows what else. They had built the entire place around the Ancient site.

Unfortunately, he had not mentioned anything about it. He had wanted to wait until they were back in the Jumper to reveal his…um, well revelation. The planet had a huge complex and now that he had seen the evac site and infirmary…he figured there was a huge amount underground. There also begged the question of why they had a barrier around the planet to speed time up. It definitely was not for extra meditation time to become a glowy octopus. With all of these tantalizing little bits, he could not wait to figure this place out. But first things first, they needed to get to a secure spot so they could figure out what to do next. Or more to point, what the crusading zealots were going to allow them to do next.

He really did not like organized religion. It grated his nerves and mucked with his highly ordered scientific sensibilities. It had always just let him down. Of course, right now, he was the only one out of the four that could represent the team. He was not the best choice to be the team's voice, but a scientist has to do what a scientist has to do. As the only member without a bullet hole in him, he was the prime candidate.

Rodney sat back down next to Ronon, kept an eye on all of the locals and watched as Sheppard and Teyla swayed in time with the wagon. Both of them were oblivious to the fact they were getting farther and farther away from their form of rescue. It would probably be another day and a half before Elizabeth tried to make contact. Another two hours after that before she became overly concerned. Then another group of people from Atlantis would be subjected to this planet's demented form of hospitality.

He scrunched his eyes closed and willed his own aches and pains to go away. He willed Sheppard and Teyla to wake up and take control of the situation. He willed Ronon…he opened his eyes only to see his teammate staring at him.

"What?" Rodney ground out. He was annoyed that maybe the Satedan could read his mind.

"When did you eat last?" Ronon asked and returned to his elbows.

"Not including the smorgasbord of filth thrown at us…before we left…" Rodney looked at his shaking hands. "Oh hell."

Ronon looked at the two waifs tending to them. "You have any crackers or juice?"

Peo and Fil stuck their head outside of the tarp covered wagon and called to some unseen person. Within moments, a satchel and flask were handed to them and brought to Ronon and McKay. Ronon opened it and displayed the flat bread and a cheese of some sort within the fabric. The flask held water, which would be just fine.

"Teomin offers these simple things to you in deference to his earlier actions. They are from his personal rations." Peo humbly backed away to sit between Teyla and Sheppard.

"We have no juice, but he is searching for some fruit. It is usually consumed first since it doesn't last very long," Fil added also moving to the front of the wagon.

The Dame never moved nor did she offer them anything.

"Eat this and rest, McKay. I have first watch." Ronon practically shoved the meal at him.

"Is that an order, Specialist Ronon Dex? Sometimes I forget you're military too. Ordering people around comes second nature to the military. If it hasn't escaped your attention, you are also wounded."

"McKay, shut up and eat."

Exasperation was a constant state on this most trying of days, so Rodney answered and withheld all of his civility while doing it, "Well then, thanks, I will." McKay nibbled from the bread and made approving sounds. He tried the cheese next and mirrored his previous approval. "Well, they can sure make pita bread and cheddar," he finally conceded.

Ronon snorted and sat up the whole way. "When you're finished, go to sleep, McKay. I have a feeling we're going to need you."

Rodney offered some to Ronon, who took it, and then lay back down. He was mentally exhausted. Watching your team get cut down in front of you tended to drain every dreg of reserve energy you had into a deep emotional abyss. But they did not need to know that. They did not need to know how it had affected him.

"Sleep, he says. How can I sleep when we are in the middle of a situation? How can I…"

Rodney started snoring before he could finish his own sentence.

-----------------

_A/N: I've loved each and every review. Just know they are truly appreciated. Just to let you know…and don't kill me…but I'm writing this story a little at a time and it's taking a while. The updates will come as each chapter is finished and edited. I've never left a story and this will be finished. I'm just not updating as quickly as I normally do…sorry. _


	6. Ch 5: Camelot T’is a Silly Place

_Warning: Language._

Chapter 5

Camelot T'is a Silly Place, but It's Dangerous

It was stuffy in the back of the medieval ambulance. Also, the local inhabitants had not bathed regularly in recent days, which made the ride just that little bit more unbearable. Rodney woke up feeling slightly claustrophobic and nauseous because the tarp that covered the wagon needed windows or air vents. Also, the flap at the back needed to be opened, which meant he felt the extreme need to get the fuck out of here.

Ronon's hand on his shoulder calmed him before he tackled one of the blood letters and made a bid for freedom.

"We're almost there," Ronon whispered.

"Where?" Rodney asked.

"The end of this part of the trip," Ronon stated evenly.

"Oh, that's very helpful. We're even farther away from our ride and you don't have any idea where they've taken us?"

"To our home away from home," the Dame interrupted. She was sitting straight up on the bench and had an aloofness that was not there before. "How should we address you?"

"Dr. Rodney McKay, but you can just call me…"

"Mer," Ronon slid in shocking the hell out of Rodney. He guessed Ronon thought it was a great time to show his sense of humor. The Dame started talking before he could correct her.

"We are at our home away from our beloved city, Mer. Our place of exile until we retake our home."

"It's Rodney…" He shot Ronon a death dealing glare dripping with skin melting acid. "…and you _want _to go back to Sodom and Gomorrah?"

"Of course, it is our most sacred place, Mer." The wagon stopped and the flaps opened. Fresh air blew in and Rodney had never been so grateful in all of his life. Well, maybe not all of his life, but for the last day, at least. He started shifting to move because it was time to see their place of Exodus.

"It's Rod-_ney,_" he said again as he sat up.

Ronon and he were the first to exit the back of the Dame's Caddie of a wagon. Porters carried Sheppard and Teyla out next. Rodney hoped they would wake up soon because he was starting to get a bit worried. The scanner said they were just sleeping but…he was not a doctor in that sense and could be missing something like fevers, septicemia, or a lacerated this or that.

He started looking around after everyone was out. They were standing in a large receiving area in front of a dilapidated Ancient building. Human-made wrought iron fences covered many of the areas and large wooden doors covered access to the facility. The size and shape were hidden by all of the additions.

Tangred approached and started issuing orders to those filing out of the doorways. Others took the horse-like animals to a stable and others took the wagons to a livery. Apparently, there had been a big caravan back to this little slice of heaven. Teomin, keeping the Dame and the team in his view at all times, ushered the soldiers to their barracks and directed the storing of all armaments. The huge catapult type devices were not among the procession and there were not enough people for everyone to have returned with them. There must still be an army waiting to retake the city.

Dame Anasta nodded at Teomin and Tangred before addressing Rodney. "Rod-_ney_, welcome to the Ponderers' place of exile, Melis End." The Dame made a grand sweeping gesture of the cluster of buildings as if this was a revelation of biblical proportions. Newer buildings were built up against the side of the Ancient structure just like in the city. The place was dormant and, as Rodney looked it up and down, damaged.

Porters carried Sheppard and Teyla towards a large door that was part of the original Ancient structure. Ronon and Rodney made to follow until Anasta grabbed Rodney's arm.

"We need to talk," she pleaded in a regally desperate voice that Rodney had not expected. Her hand was tight on his arm and those that guarded her watched just waiting for the word to draw weapons in case he did something.

"I need to go with my people…" he explained because he would not leave them until he knew they were all right.

She gave him an intense smile knowing immediately his reasons. "…Because they are yours to protect." She looked at all of those performing their duties around her and trying to keep their eyes on their work as whispers about the visitors spread. "I have my flock to protect as well. I will let your people get settled and then we _must talk_."

Rodney saw it right then in her eyes. She knew without a doubt that they were not messengers of this Protectoress. She was not holding onto any sentimental ideals, but for some reason, it did not scare him as much as it probably should have. She was helping them and not leading them to the gallows or a dungeon or a guy in a mask with a big ass axe. He looked at the thick, impervious and heavy wooden door as they entered the complex…at least, he hoped she wasn't.

They walked down hallways with the Ancient ergonomic feel and then they would pass a doorway that led to a room with a _Great Castles of Europe _feel. Both styles blended together to create a sanctuary. These people had adapted quite well to a dead building. This place had seen some fighting from large, ship borne weapons, while other buildings on this planet looked very much intact. So, he let his coveting smile creep across his face. They might have access to a shield of some kind. Oh the marvelous fortune if that was true.

Ronon limped before him, also studying everything around him, but definitely for different reasons. He watched everything as Sheppard was placed in a small room with one, low to the ground cot and a small table. Teyla was placed in a similar room right across the hall. Ronon and Rodney were led to two other apartments across form each other and next to the other two with similar accommodations.

It was all very cozy and great for meditating on the great and all-powerful Protectoress, but he would have to convince the Dame to let him return to the Jumper. He could not stay here. He walked right back out and went to Sheppard's room. A young man entered ahead of him carrying supplies for a bath. A young woman was entering Teyla's room with similar supplies. As Rodney and Ronon stood between rooms, the two placed the supplies on the small tables.

Rodney stared into the room. Sheppard's head was facing away and his left arm lay on his chest. There was an unnatural vulnerability to that position that just did not suit the soldier. He looked into to Teyla's room and even though her sleeping face faced him, her vulnerability also shocked him. This team was a group of fighters-- and yes he included himself, but not in the same vein as the other three-- and to have two of them so quiet, aberrant came to mind.

"Do you wish to do this?" the young man asked mistaking Rodney's staring for a desire to help.

Rodney and Ronon coughed and stammered. They looked at each other with a look of absolute horror on their faces.

"Hell no!" was out of Rodney's mouth before they could ask again. "I mean…we'll leave you to it…is there anywhere we can…say…get cleaned up ourselves. By ourselves…no help necessary…um, like a wash room or a bath or…"

The young woman in Teyla's chambers smiled with just a little bit of a smirk and answered, "Two doors down from where your rooms are."

Ronon and Rodney gave loud, audible sighs in relief.

Another woman walked down the hall carrying clothes for both of them. "Here, you can change into these, because the Dame Anasta has said your clothes need to be laundered. They are very…"

"Pungent," inserted Ronon smelling his stained shirt. "The people in the city shared some left over food with us."

"Hurled it at us is more like it," reproached Rodney as the woman stood before them. "Yes, well, um, thanks." He took a pair of pants and a shirt from the woman as did Ronon.

"You go first, McKay. I'll watch until you return." With nothing else to say, Ronon leaned against Sheppard's doorway and made sure the pair doing the honors kept both doors open so he could make sure nothing happened to either of his unconscious teammates.

-----------------

When Ronon returned from powdering his nose, an older gentleman approached Rodney. He had been lurking at the end of the hall waiting for the Satedan to return from his ablutions.

"Dame Anasta, Divine Orator for the Protectoress, wonders if it is possible for you to favor her with your company…Rod-_ney_?" The older man gave a very dignified bow and remained that way expecting a reply.

Thank God they were not calling him Mer anymore. Although, Ronon would still pay.

Now that the emergency was basically on simmer, Rodney was going to enjoy his moments of absolute exaltation. He would definitely keep it in check as his disposition would allow, but why not enjoy this rare moment of idolization by a people who appreciated him. Of course, he hoped that did not mean somewhere down the road they meant to sacrifice him to this Protectoress-- Ronon had more meat on his bones and would be better suited anyway. In the mean time, he figured he would find out what Anasta wanted from them and if it coincided with what they needed to accomplish.

"Sure," he answered the top of the old man's head. "Lead the way, Jeeves."

"Rod-_ney_, it is my whole reason for living." The man stood up, turned on his heel, and walked back the way he had come as Rodney followed.

"I need to introduce you to my staff," Rodney said as Jeeves led him along a side corridor different from the one they took to get to their rooms from the outside. "They could learn a lot from you."

"You are most kind," whispered Jeeves. They followed a grand staircase up to a second level and stood in front of another heavy wooden door.

The old man knocked and called out, "Dame, I have brought the messenger." He gave Rodney a quick look to see if he was still standing there and to make sure he had not vanished like an apparition during the brisk walk. The man's eyes still held a gaze of amazement, which seemed to ask why a messenger of the Protectoress was coming to the Dame and not the other way around.

The door opened and Tangred stood just inside. Her gaze held no reverence like earlier when her face was pressed into the ground. Rodney realized his short lived turn as a minor deity was already at an end. Such is the pity.

He poked his head in the door to see a simple place of residence. The Dame's apartments consisted of two rooms or so Rodney surmised from the door opposite of the one he had just entered. The first compartment had the living and sleeping quarters. A bed and a side table with a shelf underneath filled with books occupied a corner to his right. A table and two chairs blocked the way to the other door by being situated in the middle of the room. The last pieces of furniture were two more sitting chairs placed in front of a small fire place. Her little abode was not part of the original structure but an addition. Everything was in browns and woods giving a very rustic and comfortable feel to the room. It was not flashy in any sense of the term.

The opposing door opened and Dame Anasta exited carrying a case about the size of a shoebox. It was made of metal with a manmade lock on the outside. She had also changed her clothes from warrior priestess into simple, head of an entire religion vestment. She wore a graduation robe of red and little pill box hat on her head. When she finally looked at Rodney, she gave him the most peculiar look. It was a cross between delight and irritation in seeing him. Her brows knitted. Her eyes squinted. Her nose scrunched. Her lips smirked in a pseudo-smile.

Rodney thought it was indeed time to tell the truth.

"I need to tell you…" he began as she said, "We need to talk."

They both gave a small snort as Tangred stood inside the door with arms crossed at her chest, clearly not even remotely amused.

"You deceived us," Tangred said with a lot of venom in her voice.

"_Tangred_," warned Anasta. "Let him speak. He never said that he was anything other than Rod-_ney._"

"He never refuted it either. He nearly intimated that this leader of theirs is a divine harbinger," Tangred shot back, eyes narrowing on Rodney. She too had lost the armor but remained in her tunic and leggings.

"Okay, first off, it's Rodney. Not Rod-_ney_. Second off, hell no I didn't refute it. You people were about to serve my team leader up with a side of butter. You shot at us, tried to kill us, and then dragged us here. Third…well, I'll come up with a third later, but two should suffice for right now." Rodney still stood in the doorway and shifted from left to right and back again, his ire definitely bristling.

"Understandable," Dame Anasta said agreeably. "But now the question is-- what do we do with you?"

Rodney paused, the last time he had heard similar words was when Cowen said them in the underground bunker. He hated when certain situations came back like a bad case of déjà vu. The next step would have the axe man coming through the door and asking him if he was ready for a shave. "You let us do what we came here to do."

"And that is?" Tangred said with her suspicious nature shining through.

"Help save you from the Wraith. We need to find out what the Ancients…"

Dame Anasta gave him the, _Who in the hell are you talking about? _look.

"Ancestors? The people your Protectoress probably belonged to?" he said tentatively.

"The Protectoress was the master of this world and left us with the Law. She taught us how to look after her sanctuary and to keep the people in the faith. She said she or others would return to assist us. We wait for her return or messengers that would herald her return."

"And then we dropped in."

"And then you came and we figured you were here to return us to the holy city. Instruments to reap vengeance on those that have corrupted the basilica." A gleam of fanatical turpitude entered her eyes for a moment. She valiantly squashed it.

But, it had been there so Rodney wanted to run out of the room and head for the hills. He stepped back and into another body. He turned quickly and came face to face with Teomin.

Teomin wore a stone mask hiding most of his emotions. His anger, blazing in his eyes, was the only flicker of opinion.

"No one has to know that you are not what we have been waiting for," Anasta continued. "No one outside of this room needs to know that you are not the divine messengers of the Protectoress. No one needs to know that you are just staged puppets." Fanatical reasoning tunneled through her brain searching for the reason to keep the faith, apparently, not as squashed as he had first thought.

Rodney straightened and looked the Protectoress' deranged orator here on this earth right in the eye. "You don't understand. When the Wraith get here, your holy city will be obliterated and everyone scooped up like sugar in a bowl."

"No, it is you that doesn't understand. With you here, the Insubstantiate will hold no power. The Protectoress left us with defenses against them if the messengers returned. You will just have to do. You will fulfill prophecies foretold and directives left." She held up the box in her hands. "The Protectoress left us with holy teachings and relics for just such a day as this."

"And so I need to find out what the…um…Protectoress left us to do that with. But, I can't speak for the team…Sheppard's our leader…" Rodney could not just waltz into the city with this group of zealots and let them slaughter all the huddled, filthy masses even if they had hurled compost at him. "And, we have other concerns of our own…"

"If he is your leader, then let us speak with him. Before that Rodney, let me show you what we took with us from our holy city." She placed the box on the table in the middle of the room and unlocked it with a key she had around her neck. She took out another box that was sleeker and resembled the gray used by the Ancients in all of their designs. It looked like a large oblong pill, kind of like an eyeglass case, with a raised circular area on the top center. The raised area had an indentation just the right size for a thumb or finger.

"Dr. McKay, this relic has been sheltered since the Protectoress gave us the duty of vigilance. Will this vessel open for you?"

Rodney had no idea. It might, it might not. Only one way to find out.

He wiped his hands on his pants and slowly approached the horse pill. He took in a deep breath and blew it out as he stopped next to Anasta. Studying the indentation, it appeared as if it wanted an index finger. Looking first to her and then back at the box, Rodney raised his finger over the lock. He placed his finger on it and waited. Nothing happened. He tried another finger. Nothing happened. He looked back at Anasta and said, "I guess it doesn't like me or I'm not the right person. Sheppard might be able to…"

Before his last statement finished, he heard an angry huff and booted feet quickly leaving the room. Facing the door, Rodney realized Teomin had rushed out of the doorway at a full run.

-----------------

John opened his eyes to a bright pair of brown ones staring back him. He was lying on his side and the other eyes were just peeping over the edge of the bed he was laying on, waiting. They got even brighter when he blinked and gave a questioning look directed at them.

They belonged to a small, round face with straight brown hair, cut short. The mouth that went with those eyes was apparently just as big and screeched at a level that would make sorority girls jealous, "_HE'S AWAKE!"_

Now, Sheppard's ears and head rung. He stuck a shaky finger in his ear canal and unsuccessfully tried to stop the reverberation inside his too small skull. Needless to say, it woke up his headache along with the rest of him.

"Sheppard!" Ronon's smile greeted him along with his name when John reopened his eyes. John returned the smile as Ronon kneeled next to the bed.

He looked around for his other teammates and let creeping unease ooze just a little. "Where's…?"

Heading off the question, Ronon started in on the current state of things. "Teyla is just across the hall. She woke up right before you did. She's fine. That's where I came from. McKay is talking with the leader of these people. He'll be back soon." Ronon firmly grasped him on his left shoulder as if he could not bear to let go. "We nearly lost you, Sheppard…and…Teyla was not far behind."

It was funny how Ronon was so emotionally open at times. This being one of those times. He did not hold back on any of his fear or happiness at Sheppard's or Teyla's conditions. John was almost sure that if he had been feeling a little better, Ronon would have given him a bear hug that would have crushed his bones into a fine powder. The big guy was positively gushing.

"What's our status, Specialist?" John used Ronon's rank to remind him that they were still on a mission.

Ronon smiled again. "We're in a whole lot of trouble, Sheppard. We're still assessing the situation and trying to determine the best course of action." Ronon sat back and composed himself to give up what information he knew. "We're at a refuge called Melis End. It is the home of a religious order. They were getting ready to attack the city when we walked right into their scouting party. Teyla, you, and me were all injured."

"Xerigor, the city's name is Xerigor," Sheppard whispered under his breath. He ignored Ronon's cautious and confused look. "Are we overdue yet?" John asked.

"No. We don't have any of our gear either. It was all confiscated."

John closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest. He felt uncomfortable. He ached all over and guessed that a fever must be getting underway. Scuffling footsteps interrupted his moment of illness.

"John," Teyla's throaty voice greeted him. He smiled as he let his gaze focus on her. She shuffled into the room with the aid of a woman. Another woman placed a chair by the door for her sit upon. Well, maybe room was being a little generous with the description. It was more of a cell and not the prison kind. It was the sort of apartment you would find at a monastery for those on a pilgrimage. This was a place where they could contemplate the meaning of the universe and other things in peace.

She sat gingerly on the small chair wearing a white linen shift never letting her eyes leave his. "You are looking much better." She seemed to relax into the chair as his return gaze never wavered.

"Feeling much better…What's going on?"

"These people think you and McKay are some kind of angels." Ronon almost delivered the information with a straight face. "They want our help with retaking the city. As much as we could do that, Dr. Weir doesn't strike me as the kind of leader that would let us."

"Good for you, Ronon. You've finally grasped the subtleties of Dr. Weir." He waited for the obligatory eyebrow arch from Ronon before continuing, "Angels, hunh? Well, in my case, I can see where they would get that idea but McKay…?" He tried to sit up again and failed.

His exhaustion annoyed him more than the dull to acute aches and pains. And Ronon acting as a nurse was even more disturbing considering he had on a different set of clothes than those he had been wearing when he left Atlantis. Team building was taking on a very different and worrisome meaning.

"The Wraith are coming," John finally said shaking off visual images that did no one any good.

"We already knew that, Sheppard," Ronon replied looking a little worried.

"But we turned on Ancient goodies, didn't we? They're going to want to see what's what."

Teyla stood up and swayed for a moment. She carefully stepped towards his bed with intense curiosity on her face. She interpreted his meaning. "We don't have as much time."

"Bingo," he replied. "Instead of the Wraith taking a leisurely stroll to the market, it's turned into a mad dash for the last cruller."

Both, Ronon and Teyla's stares intensified. "But, Colonel, how do you know this? You were incoherent for most of time," Teyla asked.

"A little birdie told me…" He drifted off trying to reclaim the particular memory that would provide such knowledge. A mentor had spoken to him in a dream. A dead man had warned him and had asked for his help with saving these trigger happy people. An A.I., that was part of something bigger, needed them to save the day. "We've got to go back to that cesspool and help these trigger happy folk out. Where's McKay, again?"

"Talking to the Dame of Trigger Happiness," replied Ronon.

Oh, well then, all of their problems were solved, because everyone knew that McKay was a people person.

-----------------

_A/N: Thanks for the continued interest. I even have the next chapter written…yay me! Just a little disclaimer, I'm a Shep whumper (not card carrying) and if you are new to SGA or my stories, I'm not happy until I have him bleeding and going insane. It's a prevalent theme. But in this one, I am trying to get him a little more proactive. Get his lazy ass out of the bed and do something. I noticed I 'd fallen into a rut and am trying to correct that with this story. Thanks for all the feedback!_


	7. Ch 6: Headbanger's Ball

Chapter 6

Headbanger's Ball

"What's with him?" Rodney asked hitching his thumb towards the now empty doorway.

"Teomin doesn't agree with my plan." She gave small shrug as if the head of her army storming off down the hall was an everyday occurrence and not worthy of much consideration. Of course, with this bunch of religious fanatics, it might be.

"The not agreeing part means what, exactly?"

"Do not concern yourself, Rodney. I will speak with him later." She locked the eyeglass case in the box and motioned for him to move back out the door.

Then, as if his day could get any worse, it did. A small child appeared in the room and excitedly screamed at the top of his little lungs, "HE'S AWAKE!"

Rodney popped his jaw trying to decrease the damage to his hearing.

Anasta relaxed further and gently smiled at the little siren, "Thank you, Ashel. Rodney, it's time to see your leader and to have a meal." She inclined her head and pointed for Rodney to walk out of the door ahead of her. Apparently, the problem with Teomin could take a back burner while they discussed other matters.

Tangred followed quietly behind still with a hard edge to her posture. She seemed to begrudge him any latitude for not being the saviors of their world or, more importantly, to their way of life. The team's presence could be considered a slap in the face to their belief system. He really did not like organized religion, especially one based on a flawed and overconfident race such as the Ancients.

The child led the way and Rodney figured that this was the strangest way he had ever been held hostage. It was not that bad and beat constant physical torture, but his ego was being dealt a blow by being escorted to his holding room by two women and a kid…he was never, ever going to let Radek know about this.

As they entered the hallway housing their quarters, he could hear the voices of his teammates. There was that relief flowing through him because he thought he would never hear their grating vocals again. For a moment in time, he had believed that he would lose two of them forever and that was something he was not going to accept blindly, or easily for that matter.

Rodney stepped into the doorway of Sheppard's little sanctum and nearly wanted to jump up and down and clap his hands like a toddler. The tenacious and exacerbating man was alive and kicking and cursing because apparently he had tried to sit up and pulled on still healing injuries. Teyla was swaying next to the bed holding the arm of an aide and Ronon squatted next to Sheppard's head coaxing him to lie back down. Rodney wanted to call it a day right then and there because he was through with this little adventure.

Sheppard batted at Ronon and looked agitated. He was in bull-headed command mode if Rodney had to guess.

"I want to see…" Sheppard stopped his demand in mid-sentence as he noticed Rodney standing just inside the room. He exhaled in relief, looked directly at him and smiled. "Glad you could make it, McKay. Now the party's complete."

-----------------

And McKay had brought guests to his little party.

Good thing he felt pretty damn good for someone on the brink of death just a few hours ago. His little room was getting crowded and he was suddenly craving space. The imperial looking woman, holding a metal box, suggested they move to a larger communal room for some repast or i.e. - food, in the mess hall, now.

A previous ignored and growing background noise in his head earned his attention as he tried to get off the very low bed. It was a bed obviously not made for someone over six feet tall, but that was beside the point. An electronic buzzing, like a busy signal, persistently badgered his brain. It had taken a few minutes to realize it was there because of the headache and, now that he had, it was like a case of super tinnitus.

Yet, it was not unfamiliar. From the moment he had stepped on Atlantis, he received a welcome home kind of subliminal message. She was a city and could not interfere or interact with each of the occupants on an individual level. So, her energy remained in the background only coming forward when he sat in the chair for a specific purpose. She only provided information limited to his immediate task and no more. Maybe it was a defense mechanism to protect his mind from overload or, maybe, it was because so many lived within her walls that it needed a direct link to determine precise actions and not to confuse her or the inhabitants. Whatever the reason, there was no such compunction with this signal trying to connect with his head. It was like a mental tap on the shoulder, but he could not turn around and see what it wanted.

Awareness of something more crept in as well. Nanites, he had had nanites in his system along with a visit from a ghost. (On a side note, he was going to knock McKay three ways to Wednesday for putting those little bugs in his system. Even if they did save his life.) However, that was for later. Right now, he needed to focus on the dream because he had almost forgotten about his recounting this particular exercise in futility from his professional life. He wanted to click the heels of his ruby red combat boots and go home to wallow in his self-inflicted misery in peace. He wanted to lift a glass to a man who had helped form the John Sheppard of today. Whether or not the outcome was for better or for worse was still to be determined.

Unfortunately, today was for the worse, because he knew he needed to deal with the Wicked Witch and all the flying monkeys first. He could not ignore the fact that he had received a call for help from this place as if his brain was a 911 operator. The phantasm wanted him to go to the city and let Rodney drool while doing his thing. Also, they probably needed to do something other than ooh and aah over all of the pretties.

Exacerbating the problem, the city's denizens would not welcome them back with open arms. They were messengers with a very bad message: your way of life is about to end if we don't do something quick. Also, the head honcho would not want his comfort zone disturbed in any way. He was far too entrenched in his status to easily allow false angels to try anything. Flying monkeys, that term fit the mentality of that arrogant bastard to a tee. Who taunts people holding enough firepower to kill most of those flinging last year's salad anyway?

Ronon eased him to standing and John only swayed for a moment. Rodney immediately grabbed Teyla by the arm and eschewed them back through the door. They walked down the hall and took a right before another large wooden door, presumably leading to the outside into a modest dining hall. A large rustic table with two long benches down the sides and two shorter benches at either end took up most of the space. Plates and spoons were already set on the table with cups of water.

"This is where we let those seeking time with the Protectoress and those who do not belong to our order take in meals. It is the best we can offer," the imperial looking woman informed them.

"Very nice," John complimented. "I'm a little behind on the cast of this drama, so let me formally introduce myself and my team. I'm John Sheppard and this is Teyla Emmagan. I'm assuming you already know Rodney and Ronon."

"Very courteous of you, John Sheppard. I am Dame Anasta, Divine Orator of the Protectoress, amongst other titles too numerous to be bothered with at this time. And to me, you are a blessing sent to us from the Protectoress herself."

Oh yeah, that's right, angels, he thought to himself.

John looked at each of his teammates for a clue as how to answer such credentials, especially Rodney who had had the most interaction with the lovely dame of oral whatsiness. Damn, maybe he should have answered with Lt. Col. John Sheppard of the United States Air Force, Commander of the Military for the Atlantis Project and an all around nice guy. But that sounded too pretentious and he wanted to appear the humble servant.

"Nice to meet you," he settled on saying as he eased himself onto one of the side benches.

It seemed the people waiting to serve them had other ideas about his status as anything but a lowly soldier in this man's air force. Before his tail bone hit the plank, John and Rodney were instructed to sit at the heads of the table while Ronon, Teyla, the Dame, and another severely anal looking woman were seated on the sides.

Not to be rude, but John wanted to puke. Not from the pomp and circumstance but because his head was buzzing and pounding and his chest was throbbing with a rekindled fire. He looked at Teyla and she too looked less than her perky, kick ass self but not quite green like he felt. That really short cot, which took him three or more tries to get out of, was looking really good.

"John Sheppard, this is my Chief Administrator, Tangred. She is my most trusted assistant."

Chief of Staff, John thought. The indispensable person without whom you could not live, breathe, eat or take a dump. There was his target if he needed one. She was the one that trust had to be earned if anything was going to work out or the lynch pin that needed to be removed if things went sour.

As he nodded congenially, she leveled a gaze of iron will sizing him up as he did the same. He liked this woman already. A worthy adversary or ally.

But this damn headache was creating all sorts of problems with his concentration and, now, his appetite. The smells of the different foods overpowered him and a laser light show, minus Pink Floyd, played right in front of his eyes. Little laser feet stomped all over his eyeballs.

He heard a clunk as the box was set down right in the middle of the table. He let out a small sigh while trying to watch the reactions of those around him. Tangred lowered her head and the Dame said a few words as she stepped back. Likewise, the serving staff backed ceremoniously away from the table and out the doors after leaving the meal. The little dinner party was left quite alone to serve themselves and to speak of matters pertaining to the team's visit.

The Dame looked at Sheppard when the last door shut. "Rodney has said that you speak for your people." She walked closer to his end of the table and sat down on the bench. "Rodney has said that the Wraith are on their way to kill us all. Rodney has said that our most holy of treasures might open because of your divine touch. Tangred and I know that you are not hosts sent here to reassert out claim to the holy city…"

"Rodney talks too much," mumbled Sheppard. "You're talking about Xerigor?"

The Dame gasped, caught unaware of his knowledge. "You speak the name without having heard it spoken by my or anyone in this sanctuary's lips. We will not say the name until we are home. But you know it…maybe I am wrong and you are…"

"No, not wrong, Rodney and I are just people looking for friends. That includes all of my team." He gave a wave to his other two teammates seated across from one another.

Anasta nodded at him accepting the answer.

"Tell me, what happened…" He stopped as a knife went through his eye. His hand shot to his face but he would be damned if he was going to let this stop him from getting answers. Even if it was intolerable. "Why are you here and not at home?" John said through his clenched jaw.

"Gahale, a secular member of the counsel and long time rival of the order, deposed the Ponderers from the basilica. Through his actions, that feckless and arrogant man may have doomed us all. When my predecessor escaped, he closed the doors and locked them. Before that, he made sure to bring the most holy of relics with him. He removed whatever is in that case and effectively locked everyone out of the great temple. It has not been opened since and if the Insubstantiate come…"

"Oh, they're coming alright," retorted Rodney.

"Sooner than you think, McKay," added John.

"What?"

"You activated something to help us, didn't you…and don't think I didn't forget you put **nanites **in my body," John growled while shaking his finger at the scientist.

"Yeah, well, you and the wonder twins were bleeding all over the place!" he snarled back. "Next time, I'll just let you water the grass with your plasma."

"You do that." Sheppard closed his eyes and grimaced. His head was having a tidal wave moment. The tide was going out and the huge wave was imminent. It felt like his brains were sliding and pressing on the top back of his head.

"They're finished and leaving your system, by the way." He held up a medical scanner and turned it around. It was true except for a few still lingering along his spinal cord. "What about those?"

"Taking their time…wait…" Rodney studied the scanner and hit a few more buttons.

Anasta moved back to the center of the table apparently too excited to eat and ready to continue her part of the conversation. "Honored guests, please let me show you what is inside." She said a few quiet words over the box, removed the key, and unlocked it. "This is…" she began as McKay said, "There's an…"

Sheppard did not hear anything else said after the lid was lifted. The wave crashed with the force of a million gallons of water landing on him. The sensory overload reminded him of a fire truck siren, a flashing danger sign, and train horn rolled into one. A clear message of: warning, be afraid, and move your ass!

The tinnitus squealed as the oblong case demanded his attention like an alarm clock. He had one mission for the immediate future and that was to get the box to shut the hell up. He crawled down the table towards the box, haphazardly knocking things out of the way, and slapped his hand on top. With his ATA saturated touch, the little capsule spit a device out from one of its ends. Four pink crystals imbedded in an ebony rectangle enticed all to take notice.

Immediately, the tsunami retreated in his head and the buzzing went back to a more tolerable level considered to be just this side of annoying. He lay there in the middle of the bread and mashed tubers as Anasta stood completely still. She trembled at the sight of the contents that gleamed in the candlelight.

Rodney put the medical scanner down next to Sheppard and picked up the small device. "Dame, if you want us to help, you need to start trusting us right now. I need my equipment, including my backpack and a small device that looks like this thing here." He pointed to the neglected medical scanner. "Sheppard, the nanites were sending a signal to the protective case. Probably okaying your genetic code…this place may only allow one person to access certain systems…"

Rodney kept talking and Sheppard completely tuned him out. He was exhausted and did not even want to think about moving out of the evening's meal. A hand landed on his shoulder and another on his back. "Colonel, let's go back to your room. I am tired and I think you need to lie down as well," Teyla reassured him and tugged him off the table.

"Do you need help?" Ronon asked.

"No, I believe we can manage…you stay with Rodney," Teyla directed.

"What she said," Sheppard ground out to back her up as she placed his arm over her shoulders. Ronon needed to stay with Rodney if the scientist began a thorough investigation. When Rodney had a mystery to solve, the world dissolved into just the puzzle he was facing. If the Oral Hygienist let him, Rodney would solve the puzzle even if only one consonant was showing. And John would make sure that Ronon would be there to give him the chance.

After the gentle tug, John found himself inexplicably in the hall, and then, just as quickly, at his door. "I got it from here, Teyla…you go get some rest. Maybe by the time we wake up, Lorne will be here laughing at us." He really did not want her tucking him in to bed. It was just unseemly and completely embarrassing. Plus, he had mashed potatoes inside his shorts and that was all kinds of wrong.

"As you wish. Sleep well, John…Call me if you need anything." She squeezed his arm. "It is good to see you doing better."

"Back atchya," he said with a grin.

He stepped into his room.

The door slammed.

Someone grabbed his arm.

And then he was whirled face first into the wall.

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_A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews and understanding! Y'all rock!_


	8. Ch 7: A Night at the Soap Opera

Chapter 7

A Night at the Soap Opera

"The only way to make sure a serpent is dead is to cut off the head. Your presence has corrupted her. So I will start with you and then cut out the brain to make sure the corruption is cleansed," a male voice sneered in his ear.

At least now John had a reason for the intimate contact with the wall.

The hands that had been holding him against it flung him over his nightstand and onto his bed. As he landed on the top of the blanket, he noticed that this place offered turn down service. Someone had left a clay pitcher of water with a matching cup on the table as well as a change of sheets on his bed. The pitcher now lay smashed on the floor from where he had hit it on his flight to the cot. The sheets were now wet and rumpled from him crashing into them. However, the cot was made of pretty sturdy stuff and had not collapsed under the force of his weight hitting it. This place had at least earned a three star rating. It might lose a little in guest relations though. He would definitely have a talk with the manager.

John looked over his shoulder as Crazy Guy brandished a long dagger or a short sword (a very sharp-looking short sword) and took one menacing step towards him. "That worm has touched the most holy of relics as have you. You do not deserve such rights! I cannot let this go on! Once you two are gone, then she will see the contamination you have brought with you!"

Since Sheppard had landed belly first on the bed and had connected with the frame, it took him a second to gather himself and flip over to fully see his attacker. Once he got a good look, he realized he had no clue who this guy was. He had not met him before this very moment that he could recall. It was not very surprising, because he had been in la-la land for most of his time on this world.

"JOHN!" Teyla's yell was muffled as she beat on the thick door. "Col. Sheppard! Open the door!"

Would if I could, he thought to himself. Not missing an opportunity, Crazy Guy -- standing between the exit and him -- swung the sword at his head. Sheppard rolled onto the floor as metal embedded into wood. He heard the maniac jerk the blade out of the frame with a grunt and John guessed he was readying for another swing at the bean.

Rage is a powerful ally as well as a powerful enemy. It can push you to fierce action or blind you to your opponent's equally fierce reaction. If you become so immersed in your fight that you forget to remember there is another human being on the other side, the error can be deadly.

A mental click switched John from prey to predator allowing survival instincts to hone and training to focus. Crazy Guy, so intent on his vendetta, missed the subtle transition much to his detriment. Lying on the floor, John's hand found the shards of the water pitcher and closed around one.

"Look at me, false prophet," Crazy Guy commanded as he forcefully rolled John over onto his back.

As a knee pressed into his chest, and as he howled from the pressure on his injury, and as a blade pressed into his neck, John's hand forcefully thrust the long, thin shard into Crazy Guy's unprotected side. Where fervor had been seconds ago, disbelief stood in its place. Crazy Guy's expression went slack, he gave a low grunt, and he slumped sideways releasing his weapon. It clanged on the hard floor closely followed by the attacker's blood mingling with it.

Looking up at the wooden beams in the ceiling, Sheppard heard the muffled yells continuing from the other side of the door and the frantic clanging of keys over his heaving breaths.

"JOHN! Let us in! JOHN?" Teyla continued to shout and bang her fist on the unmovable wood. "Ronon! Hurry, we need this open!"

John just wanted to lay there for a moment or two just to catch his runaway breath. Every bit of adrenaline flowed out and he decided to let them go ahead and find the damn keys to unlock the door, because he was not moving anytime soon, and neither was Crazy Guy.

They laid there watching each other. He stared at John and gagged on his own blood as he spoke, "I may die, but others know your true nature."

Goody, goody gumdrops, of course they did. Now they would have to watch for suicidal zealots within the murdering zealots. He hated zealots. He had had enough experience with zealots to last two lifetimes.

The door finally swung open and John drew up his legs just in time for the door not to hit them. It bounced off Crazy Guy's feet adding insult to injury. Ronon stood there with his ripping-the-heads-off-of-chickens' glare. He looked at Crazy Guy and wheeled around to look accusingly at someone in the doorway.

"Teomin? What have you done?" Anasta frighteningly breathed as she squeezed in next to Ronon. She knelt down and placed a hand on her man's shoulder. "Teomin, Teomin…" she said over and over. "You foolish child." She swallowed and wiped away the tears falling from her eyes.

Tangred muscled her way into the room as well. Her anger was aimed at everyone including her royal oral-ness. Tears also slid down her face but she never spoke a word. Her angry glare was enough. She did not seem to agree with Teomin's actions, but his death would probably make it harder for John to get into her good graces. It was just another obstacle in this already mucked up mission.

With everyone sliding into the cell, it was starting to feel like a Marx Brothers movie. Faces and bodies kept appearing and entering into the tiny space. All he needed was someone to order twenty-four hard-boiled eggs or--

"What the fuck is wrong with you people? We come here to help and you keep trying to kill us! This is not the way to make friends and acquaintances!"

--for Rodney to show up.

John snickered because Rodney was in full swing and it was music to his ears. John's instincts and training shut off and he returned to being the life of the party as Rodney continued to spew words like a fountain.

"Christ, you're bleeding…but it doesn't look too bad, just a knick and I should know because the bullet hole in your chest was way worse…Hell, Ronon and Teyla's wounds were way worse…and are you all right and what are you laughing at and why haven't you said anything?"

John sat up on his elbows and grinned woozily at Rodney. "Because it's you, McKay, and you do enough talking for all of us."

-----------------

The ungrateful, anemic bastard.

Rodney realized too late that he had ignored the part of his conversation with Anasta about Teomin. He had also ignored she had never had that little talk with the knife happy grunt. The thrill of discovered technology had taken over his brain's synapses and he had zeroed in on the beautiful pieces of crystal.

Sadly, now, it was readily apparent that the conversation would only be one sided. He had run down the hall thinking that Teomin was going to finish his duties from earlier, but Sheppard had turned the tables -- physically and figuratively -- on the bastard.

He had been standing in the dining room ogling over the motherboard to end all motherboards when Teyla started shouting and Ronon grabbed him to haul his ass down the corridor. Now, to his utter disbelief, the tableau before him was just par for the course of this day. He stepped back with Teyla as Peo and Fil scurried into the room. Murmurs from other clerics and staff buzzed around them.

"Attacking a messenger…"

"Must be an agent of the Insubstantiate…"

"Never did like him much…"

"The only reason the Dame kept him around…"

"Get some more bed linens…"

"Is there any stew left…"

Rodney gave a great big sigh. "Teyla, if this mission were any farther in the toilet, not even Roto Rooter could help us out." As soon as he said it, he knew there was going to be a question. He held up his hand to stave her off. "I'll explain later."

She nodded in reply and turned her attention back to the room.

He could hear Sheppard inside giving his normal assurances of being fine and Rodney wanted to laugh heartily at that. There was no way Sheppard was anywhere near fine because he, Dr. Rodney McKay, PhD., was nowhere near fine, and he had not been attacked by the Green Knight from a medieval dinner theater. He stepped back farther into the hall to give the people already there space to move. He listened as Ronon weighed in with his two tuppence worth of thought.

"You're not sleeping in here…there aren't locks on the doors and these people are obviously divided," Ronon countered to some argument that McKay had obviously missed during his inner mullings.

Anasta was murmuring apologies, Tangred was glaring at everyone and everything, and Sheppard stumbled out to lean on the wall in the hall.

"You're in my room tonight…" Ronon insisted as he followed his leader.

"Don't you think people will talk?" Sheppard snapped back at his teammate.

"Teyla and McKay will share one as well…" Ronon continued unfazed.

"Now I know they'll definitely talk…"

"Shut up and listen to the man, Sheppard," Rodney hissed under his breath.

Ronon nodded at him in acknowledgement and persisted with his opinions on how things were going to go from this point on. "Tomorrow, McKay gets our Jumper." Ronon followed his assertion with a forceful glare aimed at everyone standing near. "Just anyone try and stop us, _please try_…and we will get our gear back **_now_**."

"I agree…except we need the Jumper to get back to Vegas and try our hand at the slots." Everyone stared at Sheppard.

"_NO_," Ronon adamantly answered.

"John, I think…" Teyla murmured trying to intercede.

"We need to get back there," Sheppard insisted interrupting her.

"You're scaring me, Sheppard," Rodney said as he stood right in front of him. "This mission has been a disaster…but this device…" Rodney held it up. The gas lighting in the hall reflected off the imbedded crystals sending prisms onto the walls. "…is a brain. It is the core of a very sophisticated system rivaling what is in At...other places."

Rodney realized why Sheppard scared him. It was because, even with his misgivings, he was going to back Sheppard up. He had that taste of discovery in his mouth. He had the tingling of finding something that rivaled Arcturas (Okay, maybe not that mind blowing and hopefully without the same outcome) but it was on par with finding the Aurora. He knew they had to find out what this glorified Crunch Bar did.

"We need to go back and find out what this thing does. Because this place is a production facility of some sort and there might be the holy grail of ZPM knowledge. My little laptop is not going to be able to handle the amount of data in this component. Unless…" he turned to the Dame and directed his question at her. "Are there any rooms in the original building that are similar to the consoles in the shrine?"

"Yes, but they're only for those high in the order."

"Well, who better than an emissary from your divine what's her name?" He gave her a smug smirk. He might as well use her deception to his benefit. If she wanted to perpetuate the ruse, then let's perpetuate it, he thought.

Anasta turned cold. The fierce look shook him but did not deter him. He was not Dr. Rodney McKay, world class ass, for nothing. He had had bosses that could melt steel or freeze alcohol with their glares and he had scoffed easily at their credentials. Anasta would have to do better than that to get him to back down. She wanted their help and he knew it. She needed them and he was going to use it for every precious square there was to spare.

He quickly glanced at some of the milling people, still trying to see what had happened, and at those that were there to help. "We'll discuss it later. But right now, I still need my things. All of them. Including all of their stuff too. Obviously, you have an internal conflict right now and I would like to keep any extraneous holes from appearing in my body."

Sheppard stood up straighter apparently gathering his strength. Rodney knew that adrenaline had to be pumping and his stubbornness had to be rearing up for a second go-round. "Ronon, you stick to him like glue. Teyla, let's give 'em something to talk about back home and go rest in your room. Tomorrow, we head back to the Jumper. Tonight, Rodney finds us the stereo manual for ZPM's and finds out how to kill us some Wraith. Deal?"

"Deal," responded Rodney and scurried back down the hall with Ronon and Anasta playing keep up. He clutched the crystal in his hands and would not hand it over until they positively made him.

The last thing he heard before turning the corner was Sheppard telling Teyla, "I prefer mints on my pillow instead of sword wielding homicidal maniacs…but it did make me forget about my headache for a few minutes."

"Dr. Beckett will have to remember that for a replacement for Tylenol," Teyla stated flatly as they went to her room.

Yeah, Rodney thought. Braveheart Carson. His face painted and rallying the sheep when team Sheppard came home. Those spindly white legs sticking out from under a kilt and little braids in his hair and hoisting a large bore needle in the air…

He would let that image slide, because he had a mission, a plan, and Ronon. All he was missing was a pack of smokes, sunglasses, and a cop car. Jake and Elwood had had it easy because all they had had to contend with was the vengeful Illinois Nazis, the government, Aretha Franklin, the Penguin, and a bazooka-toting Carrie Fisher.

Piece of cake.

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_A/N: I must recommend if you are ever in Atlanta, go to the Georgia Aquarium. It has Belugas and Whale Sharks. Very impressive, very cool, and very awesome. Ah, Spring Break, how I love thee._

_Have a very Happy Easter and hope those that celebrate Passover did as well._


	9. Ch 8: The Wonderful Thing About Jumpers

Chapter 8

The Wonderful Thing About Jumpers is Jumpers Are Wonderful Things!

Rodney stood in another doorway looking at more long dead computer consoles. After their stuff was returned to them, Anasta had given him a dime tour through the original facility. He now knew what this place housed: people. The complex was the living quarters for the workers, engineers, and/or scientists of Xerigor. Rodney, never one to bow down to a taboo, tried to say the name as many times as possible much to Anasta's many flinches.

On the nice tour, Dame Anasta, to the consternation of Tangred, (who hovered just as bad as Ronon) explained more of how the Ponderers came to be in this place of exile.

"This was the retreat from the daily rigors of monastic life in the middle of such a vibrant city. Our city was not the filth ridden nest of putrescence it is today. It was a beautiful village or so I have been told. I was very young when the order left. Those who followed the old ways went with them.

"Gahale was a young and coming councilman who was fed up with the religious poking their noses into everything. He fought to have the Dameon removed from the head of the council and after four tries, did it."

"How?" Rodney asked as he looked into each room that had an open door. There were places for families, singles, couples…you think about what symbolizes modern life today and it was represented in each little nook and cranny. There were kitchens with appliances, living rooms with furniture, bedrooms with beds, and craters where all the aforementioned used to be. They had found similar living quarters on Atlantis-- minus the craters.

"He put Dameon Baliam to the test along with the Protectoress. Baliam tried to warn Gahale that the Protectoress would not react to threats. She would not play into his hands and reveal her ways in such a manner. Gahale persisted and told Baliam to have the Protectoress heal all of the sick in the city. When it did not happen, the people turned on us."

Anasta stopped walking and looked at Rodney. "Yesterday, you showed me it is possible for her to do that. When you healed your friends, the Protectoress answered Gahale's challenge."

Rodney opened his mouth to deny his actions, but, in a round about way, she was correct. He had done the impossible in their eyes and the challenge had been met. "Dame…it's still technology…not any sort of paranormal show of force."

"So you say." She smiled wistfully and started walking again. "I believe I can use this to reenter my city and retake that which is mine and that which belongs to the order. We have tried in the past but their defenses have kept us back. The people have rebuked us. This time, with your help, we will be triumphant!"

"Okay look." Rodney stopped her again. "In the past, we have not had great success with governments being disassemble and reassembled. It's not our job and we can be bulldozers in a china shop. You really need to work out your inner strife by yourself."

She did not answer him, just smiled again, and continued her way down the corridor.

Presently, he stood in front of the very dead console and decided to get to work to see if the power could be returned at all. He realized after two minutes that it would not matter. This candy bar-sized piece of Ancient, crystalline construct was made for a specific interface. There was no where to put it or anyway to attach it to any other computer other than the one it was made for. It was an A/C D/C plug looking at a USB port.

It made it similar to the Gate control crystal on Atlantis that allowed them to dial Earth. What made the Gate crystal different from the candy bar was that he could make that square peg fit into another DHD's round hole. This thing was four crystals sticking out of a Hershey Bar. There was nothing like it anywhere. He would need some exotic interface to make it work.

Anyway, the problem was moot. The power to this room was interrupted on purpose. This place had taken a direct hit and most of the room was a charred mess. It appeared to be the security center for the dormitoriy and rendered dead from the power source. The shield did not hold here or was not activated in time. Whatever the problem, this place was never going to work again without the help of the original builders, a people who were notoriously uninterested in lesser beings problems even if it was with a race that they left hanging around to torment their seeds of life.

"This is not going to work. We will have to figure a way into the city…" he began to announce to those gathered when he was interrupted by footsteps on polymer floors. There was a lot of shouting from further away to accompany it. Something was apparently going on outside of the complex. Ronon stepped closer and expertly hovered just behind him.

The footsteps turned into a ruddy- faced young man. "Dame! There are reports coming in from runners that there is a mass exodus from the city and mass panic. People are on their way here to ask for asylum!"

"Do we know what is happening in the city to make everyone leave?" Anasta asked as she started to jog from the room. Rodney decided to follow since there was no sense in staying. Best laid plans and all that.

The runner kept talking as they walked swiftly down the corridor. "A family showed up at the main gate just about an hour ago talking of strange happenings in the city. They say that a loud wail is constantly sounding. Like a warning. Maybe the Protectoress, through her messengers, is now showing that old man who's boss. Maybe she is sounding the death knell to those corrupted by evil." The young man had a gleam in his eye as well as in his smile.

"Yes, we believe you are right, novice. Let us go see what they have to say."

They exited the building into the courtyard where they had first arrived at Melis End. The novice pointed at a man, woman and three children, but, apparently, they were not the only ones seeking sanctuary in the cloister. About fifty other people were standing there as Anasta's people surrounded them. Everyone looked nervous and ready to crack.

As Rodney stood there and Ronon backed him up, he heard an inorganic humming. "Where's my radio?" he whispered to himself.

Ronon started to rifle through McKay's pack without hesitation because he had obviously heard it too. "Dame! Where are the little ear pieces we had on?" Rodney yelled as he snatched the bag away from Ronon.

Anasta turned around looking confused and not just by the question. "I…I don't…this is…"

"Yes, it's all very interesting, but we need our radios!"

"Found it!" cawed Ronon. "Right there, in the side pocket!"

Rodney quickly fit it to his ear and practically yelled as a voice came over the little piece of plastic and wire.

"Maj. Lorne to Dr. McKay, do you read?"

"Oh dear God, yes I do!" Rodney practically croaked. "I can hear you! Where are you?"_"Right above you, Dr. McKay."_ The Jumper uncloaked and Rodney thought he could kiss the machine and everyone on board. The courtyard erupted into screams, wails, and the obligatory prostrated forms.

"Oh for…Get up! It's just our ride!" Rodney yelled at the folks face down in the dirt and then he looked up. He guessed that if someone had never seen a flying ship besides a Wraith dart…well…naw, they were still idiots.

"What the hell is that, McKay?"

"Enjoy it while it lasts, this is complete adoration for messengers of the Ancestors."

" Al-riiight…we see Ronon. We have the Colonel and Teyla on the HUD."

"The Colonel and Teyla are inside resting and if you have a medic…"

"I'm here, Rodney."

"Carson! Oh thank God! We need you to come down and talk sense into the man."

"Was he injured?"

"What do you think, Carson? Of course he was and so was Teyla." Rodney neglected to mention Ronon or himself even if the burn was glaringly obvious on his forehead.

"Can you get everyone back so we can land right there…It is safe to land right there?"

Rodney looked at Anasta who had remained standing. "He needs to land. This is it Dame, trust us?"

She nodded and watched the ship hover with awe spelled across her face.

"Yeah, Major, come on down." Ronon and he started yelling to get the people to their feet and moving away from the center of the large open area. Once the craft had landed and the hatch started to open, people dropped onto their bellies once again. Major Lorne's team and Carson stepped out of the back and stopped with their eyes wide asking the question, _What the…? _After they shook their heads, they walked over to Rodney and Ronon.

"Oh get up! They're with us!" Rodney shouted again at the adoring fans.

"Rodney, what's all this?" Carson asked letting his eyes rake across the crowd slowly getting up from the ground. Anasta had also motioned for everyone to rise so the process was quicker this time around.

"Don't let it go to your head. They do it anytime they see someone using Ancient equipment."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Doc," Lorne retorted with a long suffering exhale. "The Colonel, Doc?"

"Oh yeah, this way…" He turned around. "By the way, and not that I'm complaining or anything, but why are you here?"

"The Wraith, Rodney," answered Carson.

"They picked up speed and numbers," added Lorne. "Dr. Weir thought we'd better come and see what's up just in case. You guys hadn't missed your check in, but she said that the increase in the Wraith's activity made her nervous."

"Perfect, this just gets better and better." Rodney ran his hand across his face. "I had to activate a few things so I might as well've rang the dinner bell and yelled, 'Come and get it!'" Rodney jog-walked towards the door they had entered when they first arrived at the complex. He started giving a brief history of their mission to date including the blood bath on the road to nowhere. He stopped at his failure in the defunct security room.

Rodney took no notice of anyone else following in the hallway as he spoke or whether or not anyone was left to guard the Jumper. He was just so relieved to see these two that nothing else took precedent. He walked right up to the door where Teyla and Sheppard rested and walked right in without knocking.

Now, it was his turn for his nose to be flattened on a wall just inside of a small room.

-----------------

Why was he so adamant about going back? Why was he so sure that he had to do this? It was not like they owed these people anything. It was more likely to do with the one who had asked. He had to find out why the A.I. took that particular form. Why did everything in his life like to highlight his failures and his not so stellar moments? Or was it because he had a selfless streak going and actually cared about what happened to these people? Nah, that couldn't be it. It had to be the nanites left in his body.

The mash potatoes were still in certain crevices and pasted onto the outside of his pants driving him crazy, but not crazy enough that he was going to do anything about it in the immediate future. He was just too tired. He was just too confused and too overwhelmed at the moment. He rolled onto his side and looked at Teyla snoozing lightly on the cot next to him. That being the cot right next to him because these rooms were made for one not two. If anyone saw this, the rumor mill would be in full production.

Oh well, not much he could do about it. And anyway, Teyla could set it straight with no help from him. But, back to his previous thoughts of "why?" The A.I. had chosen very well. It had picked the guy that Sheppard would have done anything (and he meant anything) for without question.

_Need someone to disappear?_ No problem.

_Need to fly covertly into restricted airspace?_ I'm your man.

_Need me to visit you in the hospital while you waste away to nothing?_ Okay, maybe he did not mean anything without question.

His weakness in interacting with the terminal came shining through. The General had contacted him directly asking for him to come see him. John, so good at running away when anything deeply emotional hit the fan, did exactly that and ran away while staying absolutely still. He stayed put in Atlantis and did not acknowledge the letter- an actual hand written letter- until it was too late. He just could not face the man in such circumstances. Then, once he finally could get his head around it and face it enough to ask for the leave, Newton was dead.

God, he sucked sometimes.

So, now his teammates had to bear out his foibles and look where it had gotten them- trapped with a group of crazy people, because he was not on his game. He had nearly gotten his teammates killed in the process. He flipped over to face the wall and closed his eyes. He'd make it up to them somehow. He'd been an absolute pill to deal with the last couple of days and, now, just flat out reckless.

Even still, that particular ghost had asked for help, so, he was going to give it, even if it was not really him. Plus, Rodney had the brains of the operation in his hands, literally. They could not turn back now. They had to finish the puzzle or it would drive them as crazy as these people seemed to be.

He was nearly asleep when the door opened abruptly and his cot was jostled from Teyla flying out of hers. By the time he rolled over, Rodney was smashed into the wall with Teyla holding one of his arms pinned behind his back. Yeah, he would not need to worry about the rumor mongers back home because she'd take care of anything said.

"Teyla, it's me!" Rodney whined with a smooshed nasal quality in his voice.

She let him go immediately. "I'm sorry, Dr. McKay…you startled me." She grabbed her side and sat down hard on her cot.

"Damn, Teyla…next time I'll knock…harder and louder. Well, anyway, look, I brought company," he said pointing at the doorway with one hand and rubbing his nose with the other. Carson was already moving into the cramped room trying to see both of his patients and Lorne hung back clearly not wanting to get face-planted into any surface. _Smart man_, thought John.

"Good to see ya, Major," John finally said trying to maneuver into a seated position. Carson moved the closest cot into the hall with Lorne's help and made Teyla sit on John's cot. She had insisted on sleeping next to the door. She was such a Mom sometimes.

Speaking of Moms, Carson started in on his myriad of questions even going so far as directing some at Rodney. He obviously knew his patients well enough that their answers would be kept to a minimum and underplayed. Rodney, however, was the consummate information giver and delved into each gory detail with relish. He ended with: "I didn't pass out until it was all done!" Sheppard was damn proud of Ronon and Rodney because he had not heard the full details of Teyla and his demise until now.

"Well, that settles it, your coming home." Carson started packing his gear.

"NO!" Rodney and John shouted in unison.

Rodney tried to explain. "Carson, we've got something big here and the Wraith…"

"…have two more Hives joining the ones already on the way," finished Lorne. "And, they've picked up speed. The first three will arrive in just over three days of this world's distorted time."

"They notched it up to eleven just as you said they would, Colonel." Rodney looked dejected now.

The Wraith had been taking their time…with a planet in a time dilation, they could relax and have even more prey when they got there. All they had to do was make sure the culture did not get past a certain level of technology and, wa-la, burgers for everyone.

"No," Carson adamantly disagreed. "All four of you are coming with us and then we'll see about coming back. Your injuries are not healed properly and Rodney, the cut on your head needs attention. And Mr. Dex, don't think I didn't miss that limp!"

Sheppard heard a small groan from the Satedan somewhere in the corridor.

"Sir, with all due respect," Lorne fidgeted for a second before continuing. "When we came through the Gate, alarms started going off. We pretty much figured you were in big trouble. There is a long line of people on the road to this place from a city. It might as well scream to the Wraith to come check this place out."

"He is right," Anasta's said calmly from behind Lorne. "Many of the refugees are telling a story of how the city is crying for help. It wails for our return." Lorne stepped aside to let her through, but did not take his eyes off of her. "Gahale is trying to rally his troupes but they are leaving with their families. Now is the time for our return. We can take the city back with little or no blood shed. We can get in and return the basilica to power and push that old tyrant out into the sewers like he's done to so many."

Sheppard realized that the Ponderers were heading home whether the Lanteans liked it or not. He would rather be there helping than letting these people destroy anything that could help either of their people.

"If we do this, we do this for everyone on your planet, not just the Ponderers. Afterwards, we can negotiate terms of trade or help," said Sheppard.

Peo and Fil slipped into the room behind Anasta. All three looked disappointed, but Anasta quietly agreed with a bow of the head.

"We need to get there quicker than we originally thought. Major, contact home and send for two platoons of marines. We need to aid with the refugees. Carson, when this is over, you can tie us to a bed and sedate us into next year. But, right now, we need to stay. Anasta, get any plans or drawings of the city and anyone who lived there. Get Tangred to coordinate with Maj. Lorne. We need to set this little plan into motion and iron out all the details because I have a feeling we're going to need every spare second."

-----------------

A/N: I hope everyone has had a better week than mine. Mine included a root canal…argh. Feel like I've been punched in the jaw.


	10. Ch 9: Keep Them Xerigorians Movin!

_Warning: Language_

Chapter 9

Keep Them Xerigorians Movin', Rawhide!

Rodney looked down on the city and watched everyone pile out of it like leaf-cutter ants in a rainforest documentary. People were carrying everything they could. Carts were loaded down. Horse-like animals were trudging along the streets under enormous amounts of weight. In the middle, one robed individual scurried from one person to the next begging them to stop. From the external speakers, the klaxon was deafening. Rodney was amazed anyone was even left in the squalid town.

They could follow the line of refugees from Melis End to Xerigor like it was ants filed in line. Then the inappropriate laughter wanted to rear its ugly head, because didn't everyone look like ants from this height?

He looked over at the pilot's seat as Sheppard grimaced and brought his arm up to his chest. He rubbed at the spot where the bullet had entered and exhaled slowly. "Looks like Gahale is having trouble keeping residents. Looks like even part of his goon squad is beating a hasty retreat," he observed as he shifted, again, and exhaled in pain, again.

Rodney had thought that Carson was going to explode like Vesuvius when Sheppard said he was piloting the Jumper to the city for a little recon. Lorne had dropped them off and gone to update Dr. Weir. It had already been a few hours since Carson and he had arrived. Carson had taken his sweet time checking each and every member of the team. Rodney's bullet burn now had a shiny new bandage and his bloodstream had some great antibiotics.

Now that they were at the controls, the sensors told of the planet wide alarm system sounding. "I guess part of what powered up when we entered the medical center also powered up sensors. Hello, Wraith calling. They must have tripped proximity sensors on the approach to the planet. At least, according to what the Jumper is telling us." Xerigor was not the only place where warning klaxons were blaring. It was everywhere. Anasta started sending messengers to the other towns to get the news of the Wraith circulated. "It must be in primary systems that booted up when we stepped into the shrine." Rodney finished postulating.

Gahale was having no luck keeping everyday folk from leaving. As they hovered and took readings, not all of the people left but enough did.

"You know we could shut off the alarm," Rodney casually suggested.

"Why would we do that?" Sheppard casually answered. "Why would we want to make that asshole's life any easier? Anyway, it will keep people out making it easier to complete our objective."

"I think you're right. If we wait for just a couple of more hours, it will just be him and a couple of others there and then we can waltz in, turn off the alarm, turn on whatever defenses they have, and be home in time for dinner."

"You know it's not going to be that easy, right Rodney?"

"Why not? Aren't we due? I think we're due!"

"I believe someone should be knocking on a tree or something right about now?" Ronon added in a low, snide mumble.

"I believe you're right there big guy. Rodney, you had better knock on wood."

Rodney huffed. "We're due. I'm telling you, we're due!" He went back to looking at the readouts on the HUD. They showed the structure above and below ground. The detail was a rough outline with no specifics but he recognized certain elements from working at Area 51 and even visiting the Prometheus site once. Rodney switched from level to level and then gave a low exclamation as he stopped on a large empty area.

"Holy shit. I know what this place is."

"Well?" Sheppard said after waiting for McKay to expound on his knowledge.

"You remember on Taranis that they could fit an entire warship in an underground hangar?"

"Yeah, kind of walked, meaning ran, through it."

"Well, you're looking at a facility that can house up to three. You're looking at dry docks. You're looking at shipyards. Xerigor is the place where they built their ships."

"Holy shit." And really that was all that needed to be said. "So…no ZPM production."

Well, except maybe that.

"My thoughts exactly," is how he replied trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Rodney continued to display the different views from level to level while letting his wonder grow at this particular find. "Here, there seems to be underground bunkers for workers in case of attack…ugh, this is frustrating. The connection is so limited since the city is not at full power and only seems to be operating on auxiliary."

"Newton said as much…"

"What? What do you mean: Newton said as much?"

"Where do you think we can enter?" Sheppard continued ignoring the question. He looked like he really did not want to get into this right now.

But, Rodney being Rodney would no let go. Ronon leaned closer to the pilot as did Teyla from their respective rear seats. "What happened when you were unconscious? Now that I think about it, how did you know I put nanites in your body?"

"I…it's…well…had a message from the A.I. in the city's computer."

"I'm sorry, what? You're just mentioning this _now_? Carson said all of the nanites were inactive, right? You aren't going to keel over and go catatonic with messages from the great and powerful Oz, right?" This took the cake. Sheppard had received a signal from that little case holding the Nestle Crunch Bar and now had a conversation with a computer without so much as saying a word. "You realize, you're and idiot, don't you?"

"Thanks McKay. Yes, the nanites are gone. I guess their job was finished. I just hadn't had a chance to say anything and it just didn't come up in conversation. I gave all the pertinent information. I would have mentioned it later."

"In a pig's eye." Rodney slouched back into his seat.

"You said something about a birdie before, not an A.I.," Ronon said.

"Another figure of speech…but I'm sure if there is anything else that needs to be said that the Colonel will say something, right?"

"Of course, McKay."

"Good, now back to the huge facility. According to the information shared with the Jumper, there is a chair room in the above ground complex, in the basement."

"So, not above ground," Sheppard said with his usually flippancy.

"No, but it's in the complex attached to the city and not in the ginormous underground shipyards. All it's getting is schematics and according to this, there is only one way in. The shrine and other places like it are all one way transporters. Exit points with no reentrance. And I guess now we can see why they have a time dilation here."

"Did you just say, 'ginormous'?"

"Yes, yes I did. And a bunch of other stuff, weren't you listening?"

"Why do you think the time dilation is here?" Teyla asked from her seat interrupting them so the tangent would go no further. She also sounded impatient which took a lot to accomplish and this trip had certainly accomplished it.

Of course, Carson had not been any happier about her going than Sheppard. She just would not leave her team's side until they were finished, impatient or not. She looked better than Sheppard anyway. So the reasoning was: if Sheppard could go, then she could go. Rodney was just glad the team was all together.

"Well, if you need to manufacture warships, and have so little time to do it, then speed up the time. They did it just enough so that the people stationed here would not lose too much time in the outside universe. No, gone four and five hours and six months have passed. More like gone a day and a couple of days had passed here."

"Makes sense and what a way to build an armada. Stands to reason they have some sort of defense system…" Sheppard postulated as he angled the Jumper to look at a different part of Xerigor.

"I figure there's a shield of some sort and maybe a weapon because, when they evacuated, there may have been a battle from the state of Melis End. They may have been shooting over their shoulders and running for the ships as they left." Rodney kept switching screens manually, much to Sheppard's apparent annoyance. It was like watching T.V. with his sister. He could hear that shrill, "I was watching that!" He shook off the unwanted voice in his head. Another question brought his attention back around.

"But why leave it standing?" Sheppard asked the craft in general.

"How should I know? Maybe, they made it look dead. Maybe, the Wraith did not know exactly what was done here and just thought it was another scientific outpost. Maybe, the Wraith are lazy." They may have thought him the Answer Man, but, sometimes, (and only sometimes) he did not have a clue as to what motivated these highly enlightened beings.

"Do we have everything? 'Cause I'm feeling the strain," Sheppard said with yet another grimace. It had only been a day Xerigor time but it might as well as been forever. Sheppard was a stubborn ass and would not stop until his job was done. And unfortunately, he might be the only one to do that job. Rodney was making a guess at what role the Protectoress played at this facility. She was the shop manager. She ran the whole shebang from the control chair. But, that was just a guess.

The cloaked Jumper hovered over the city and witnessed the last few stragglers fleeing the city. A group of about twenty stood in the middle threw up their arms and walked back towards the city hall. Rodney thought they had the right idea. "Let's head back, look over these readings and get a nice cold beverage and some food."

"Sounds like a plan," Teyla answered.

"You've been hangin' with us too long, Teyla," John said with a smile in his voice as he headed the Jumper back to Melis End.

-----------------

The first thing that happened to Sheppard when he disembarked the Puddle Jumper was for Carson to grab his arm and walk him straight to one of the guest rooms in the complex.

"Doc, listen, I'm…"

"…fine. Yes, I know Col. Sheppard. And I'm the Queen Mother."

"His chest is bothering him," Ronon added to further make Sheppard's life miserable.

Carson tutted and waited long enough for one more to exit the small craft. "Teyla, you too," Carson ordered before her boot hit the grass of the courtyard.

Sheppard watched her eyes roll as he harbored a little justified glee in his heart. He would not be alone in the dog house.

Ronon started to follow Rodney to another door until Carson yelled, "I expect you to come by for a check up once Rodney is settled!"

More glee filled his heart as Ronon grunted a disgruntled answer before hurrying (with his noticeable limp) to catch up with Rodney.

"When we're done, I need to talk with Tangred and Anasta," John said just so Carson knew his work was far from over.

"When we're done, Colonel."

"Gah!" John snarled under his breath and dutifully followed Carson into the dim hallway leading to their cells. The Ponderers insisted they stay, so Lorne insisted they have four marines, one for each room. Remarkably, the cells were more comfortable than the floor of the Jumpers. John liked all the insistence because it gave him the warm fuzzies.

Anyway, Lorne's exact words were, "Way to be alive, sir. _And, _I'm keeping you that way, sir." He had said it in that dry, second in command tone. Sheppard could remember when he was the one babysitting and coddling higher-ups. He did not miss it and discovered he really did not like being on the other end of the coddling either. Protective-- yes. Babysitting-- no.

But damn it, his team and those under him were sure protective of him and he was not sure why. Someone like Dan Newton had earned it. He was a man that Sheppard would lie down in the road for and the other guys in the unit would have to-- they had known Newton longer and had more reason to do it. It was the first toe on the ground and the last one to leave philosophy. Newton had said he had learned it from one of his colonels in the Air Cav. It was one of those things that just stuck with you. A life lesson that clung like Velcro.

John was really confused on how he, Lt. Col. John Sheppard, had gained such loyalty-- especially for such a perceived anti-establishment officer. But there it was. All he ever expected was for his men to follow him because he was the commanding officer and to do no less than what he was prepared to do. It had angered him that volunteering to go into a cave full of Iratus bugs and trying to harvest the eggs was left to others and not to him. Hell, Rodney had even gone…and that totally blew his mind.

Even recently, when Kolya (that bastard) had taken him, he knew they were coming. He just did not expect everyone to be there. Rodney had said it was very hard to watch him get abused like that. But they did watch so he would not be alone even if it was only in spirit. "We couldn't get to you, but we didn't leave you either."

That had meant a lot. He never doubted them trying to find him. He had learned a hard lesson when stuck with Teer in Ascension Land. He learned he did not trust them as much as he should have. He learned where his insecurities lay. He learned what he meant to them and what they meant to him. His faith in his friends did not waver anymore.

And somehow, he had gained this status with some of the men under his command, even if he was a Nancy-boy, Air Force Lt. Colonel. Marines were weird sometimes…okay, all of the time. What could he do?

After Carson futilely told him to rest, he was back to the problem at hand: gaining entrance into a locked and heavily fortified building with him possibly being the only key. It was an everyday kind of problem, at least for them. With the city evacuated, and with the only resistance a handful of thugs, and with them in limping fighting form, they had slim to none chance, and Slim was packing, but just had not left town quite yet. He liked those odds. That was why he had reinforcements.

Rodney had said that the place may only open for one person and obviously the nanites and pseudo-Newton chose him. So, Anasta gathered some ancients of her own to recount their memories of the city. The HUD's scans were immensely helpful and Anasta's own hand drawn renderings gave a complete picture. Of course, Gahale would not have left well enough alone. There had to be changes in the Xerigor that the Ponderers would not know about.

When Lorne returned, Tangred and he started assigning people to settle the refugees in confined areas outside of Melis End. That included guards. Others had left on two Puddle Jumpers to inform the other towns and communities what was happening. He had also pulled all the Atlantians aside to inform them of Teomin's warning. He wanted them to remember that they could not let their guard down around anyone. John knew killing Teomin was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Teomin was the third in command and such an act could not go unanswered. Even if the other zealot's did not exact revenge, Anasta and Tangred would be within their rights. He hoped it could wait until after he heroically destroyed the Wraith and saved the planet. Maybe, _they _would accept the points system.

Instead of sleeping, he met with Lorne, Anasta, Tangred and Rodney. He'd deal with Carson's disappointment later.

"Even with no one there, Gahale will not give up his power easily," observed Anasta. "He will lie in wait like an Ambush Scorpion. They build a nest in the ground and wait for an unsuspecting meal to walk by. Then it attacks from the cover of its lair."

"We've got a few things like that back home," said Sheppard. "We've a got a few people like that, as a matter of fact. I noticed O'Shea was with you, Major."

"Yes sir, like to keep my ass covered and options open." Lorne rocked on his heels.

"It looks like we land, fan out and gain access right here," Sheppard pointed to a door on the blueprint like parchment. Once the facility sealed itself, this is the only way in. I'm sure Gahale knows this, right Dame?"

"Yes, but, Gahale will want the city back and access to inside sanctuary as a show of his power. He will probably let us proceed until it does not suit his purposes."

"Let's count on his greed and lust for power. And as I said, we've played this kind of game before." Too many times, he thought. Such banal qualities were common factors amongst humanity. His people included.

Anasta gripped the table in the dining hall. He could see her excitement in the prospect of being the one to return her people to power in the city. He would have to count on her lust for power too. Tangred was the key to keeping everything an even keel. He would have Lorne chat her up. Pairing them together would give him insight he was sure would have been lost because of his actions. He had a feeling she would keep her Dame on the objective: saving this world.

"Anasta, get your army together, just in case. They will have the perimeter. Do you have an elite guard?"

"Yes."

"Good, they will come with us into the city. We'll need people who know Gahale's tactics. You will come with us and show us the in and outs of the city. You studied the inside of the basilica for years, am I right?"

She looked momentarily stunned. "Yes, how…?"

"It's just the way you've been looking and speaking of them."

She looked flustered for another moment and then smiled. "I should have expected nothing less than such astute observations from messengers."

Sheppard let it slide. It would actually serve their purposes to have the populace believe the lie during the crisis. They would listen to directions without question. Afterwards, if this little misrepresentation bit them, then they would accept the consequences. There would be quite a few consequences on this mission.

He had not talked directly with Elizabeth, on purpose, and he knew there would be a few words passed between them. Lorne had already relayed a message of good luck and just you wait until I get you in my office. He was going to have that called to the principal's office moment. Poor Lorne was playing errand boy and wingman on this venture.

That's for later, he thought. He would deal with everything, one situation at a time, when those particular times came. "Jumper 5, continue surveillance on the city and outlying areas."

"_Yes, sir."_

"Let's wait for dark and then we can get this plan underway."

-----------------

_A/N: Wow, this chapter was easy to write just hard to put into some sort of order. The bots have left us stranded but please feel free to drop a note. They are much appreciated! _

_Oh, the tooth is fine. The crown is coming. The temporary is driving me insane!_


	11. Ch 10: Sheppard Went a Courtin'

Chapter 10

Sheppard Went a Courtin' With a Pistol by his Side

Everyone was asleep except for Rodney. He was supposed to be asleep, but had to make a midnight pit stop and then kept right on going. He wanted to talk with Anasta about what would happen afterwards. He wanted her to understand what this place meant to both of their people. As he approached her chambers, her door was opened and she was in deep conversation with someone. After a minute of eavesdropping, he figured out with whom she was speaking.

"They disappoint you because they are so human."

Rodney huffed to himself because hadn't he been telling them that all along.

"They are crass, crude and utterly unlike what we were led to believe that those with the touch of the Protectoress would have. They mock us and then lay their lives down for one another. They are willing to help, yet they have a price. I do not understand them at all." Rodney recognized Tangred's voice. "They are not as I expected."

"But, they are the ones she has sent to help."

"You do not think that they are still real messengers, do you?" Tangred's voice held no incredulousness or disdain, but it did ask an earnest question.

"No. But, they are what we have been waiting for all of this time. I think they are messengers, of a sort, telling us to go into the future. As repugnant and self-serving as Gahale is, he was trying to move us out of our complacency. He just went about it the wrong way and took it too far."

As Rodney sat there, he started thinking that the Dame was not that far off. Radek gets a hit on the database about ZPM production, an obvious key word that would make everyone in Atlantis and on Earth salivate. Only, they find out that the Wraith are on the way to the planet. Maybe this was not as fortuitous as they believed. Maybe this Protectoress was still protecting. The Ancients were such a frustratingly obtuse race of enlightened know-it-alls. Their whims were quickly becoming tiresome. No involvement-- his shiny, metal ass.

A hand landed on his shoulder making him jump and squeal. Immediately, Tangred stuck her head out of the door prepared to do bodily harm to anyone standing there. When she realized who was out in the hall, her face took on a bewildered, frightened and relieved look. All of the phases were expressed one after the other and in just a matter of seconds.

Rodney stood still and stared at her. The hand remained in place. And Anasta called out, "What's going on?" while remaining in her rooms.

"Unwanted eavesdropping," replied Tangred, her eyes never left Rodney or the owner of the hand on his shoulder. The very strong hand squeezed his shoulder until Rodney dropped it a little. He finally swelled his nerve to look directly at Maj. Lorne. His hand was starting to pull McKay back and away from the second in command of the Ponderer's forces. Rodney realized Lorne was in protection mode. Rodney also realized he needed to diffuse the situation even if that was not his strongest skill.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to listen in, I was coming to…" What did he really want? Unfettered access to the site? Hope that they would not kick them off the planet once they had retaken the city? Ask, no, beg to be allowed to stay with a team to study this great find? Even though it is not a ZPM production site, maybe it could lead to a ZPM production site. They used the mega-subspace battery to power their warships. And anyway, non-interference was just a new way of thinking to the Ancients. All they did before transcending the bonds of this plane of existence was interfere. Obviously, they still did if the mood hit them.

"We, meaning all of us," Rodney made a circular motion with his hand to incorporate everyone standing in the hall. "Need to be able to figure this place out. To study it. I'm sorry we've distorted your view of the workings of the universe and your belief system in particular…Okay, I'm not all that sorry…" he paused for a moment as Anasta joined them in the hallway. "But, your system has served you well. Well, maybe not everyone…but …you guys…" He needed Teyla. He sucked at this.

"We need you help us," Lorne finished for him. "We can't help you without your cooperation. You need to understand, we're people and that's it. Now, after this, whatever you decide, we'll abide by. Dr. McKay, I think it's time for you to get some sleep. We've got lots to do."

They left the two women standing in the dimly lit hall. "Whatever happens in the afterwards, thank you for the now!" Anasta yelled as Rodney and Lorne went back the way they came.

"What were you thinking, Doc?" Lorne sternly whispered as they made their way to the others. "You need to stay with a marine or Ronon."

"I…well…I've been doing this for better over a day now. If they wanted to hurt me, they could've already done it."

"No Doc, that reasoning will get you killed. Then I would have to explain to Col. Sheppard why you're dead. Ronon and Teyla would not be very happy either. Then, I'm sure, Col. Sheppard would have to make a visit to my sonless Ma about why her sweet baby boy was chopped into tiny pieces. Do me and my Ma a favor and think of my welfare as well as your own."

Rodney snorted with a subdued harrumph and did not stop until he was at his door. "Then, I guess, I'll request a wake up call for about 9:30 P.M."

"Get right on that, Doc."

-----------------

Dusk settled with a vicious reminder that John was not up to par. He ached and groaned and wanted to keep his eyes closed. But, alas, he had a mission to run. After four tries, he stood up from the cot that seemed to get lower to the ground with each passing second. The young marine at the entrance to his room nodded at his exit, but did not follow him to the little officer's room, much to his relief.

He splashed water on his face and rolled his neck to get the kinks out. In his mind, he could see the placement of every person going on the mission, what their job was, and the probable outcome. He wanted to be swift. He wanted to know how many remained or waited inside and around the city. He needed to be prepared for the improbable and the illogical. He needed to have the inside of the Ancient building memorized well enough that he could move through it in his sleep.

He looked at the red eyes and black circles under them in the mottled mirror. That part would not be hard, he laughed to himself.

He left the bathroom and walked back down the hall. "Did anyone get me a uniform that doesn't have a gaping hole in it?"

The young man smiled. "Yes sir. On your chair, sir."

Sheppard shook his head because he had completely missed it. "Thank you sergeant. Be right out."

After he dressed, ate and went over a few more details. Rodney and he briefed everyone on what was going to happen.

"Anasta you're with us," he pointed to his team. "But Tangred, you're going to lead an assault on the walls of the city. Keep anyone within it occupied. We'll have position locations for you once we get there. Also, do you have the people picked who are assigned to the Jumpers as guides?"

She nodded her answer as well as said, "Yes, Colonel."

"Good. This is a bit of a confrontation. We don't know what we'll find inside. The city's computer and the Jumper could only exchange limited information. But, we have reason to believe this place is…" he crinkled his eyes while thinking. He did not want to give the impression of looters if he said treasure. Nor, did he want to give the impression of mercenaries if he said anything about what it could gain them. He settled with, "…important."

His people understood and so did the Ponderers, but each in a different way. They both had their own agendas and hopefully the two would meet.

"We lift off in three hours. Does that give you enough time to get to those troops you left at your rallying point?"

"Plenty, Colonel," replied Tangred. "I will also bring reinforcements from here. We might have a problem with infiltrators. Gahale's people left with some of the refugees. They may be just waiting for us to leave to attack this place."

This was where they would have needed Teomin. But Teomin was dead. "Do you have a replacement commander in mind?" he asked.

"Yes, his name is Cassis. He is a commander of one of our regiments. He is very competent and loyal."

Sheppard hoped not fanatically loyal, but that just might be what they needed if it hit the fan. "Good."

Their world, their rules. Unless, it interfered with him.

"You have your assignments and instructions. Move out."

The three hours went by quickly and, sooner than expected, Jumper 1 was lifting off to take back Xerigor.

Tangred's people were in the tree line in the North and South of the manmade walls. Of the four Jumpers, one remained in the tented encampment with Beckett, who was none too happy about the team leading the assault and him not being by their side. However, the encampment had the medical center so it was the best place for him to be.

They met no resistance. They saw glimpses of fabric and heard retreating footsteps, but no one contested them as they crossed an open area in front of the city hall. The teams from the two other Jumpers fanned out and secured buildings close to the entry point. The only way into the Ancient facility was through a door inside the government building.

Of course, nobody coming to greet them did not mean that nobody was there. They might have a welcoming committee later in the day.

"Col. Sheppard," yelled McKay, "Can I turn the alarm off now?"

Sheppard gave a nod of the head and blessed silence ruled supreme. The klaxon had done its job. Why continue with the horrible sound as they moved through the interior?

"Thanks Rodney," he said as he nosed his gun against the front door. They stood on the steps where the good citizens of Xerigor had introduced them to their version of a fermented fruit salad. The door did not budge. "O'Shea, see anything from your perch?"

They had dropped the sniper off at a high vantage point on one of the buildings. He had an unobstructed view of the town square. "_Nothing, sir."_

Sheppard made a quick glance at his surroundings. The doors were extremely thick and the locks were unknown. "Doors aren't going to open without a little help from our letter and number of the day, C-4." He motioned for one of Lorne's team members to come forward and set the charges. They watched everywhere. It was just too silent, and too easy.

The locking mechanism blew up and Lorne went in first with his team. They leapfrogged from doorway to doorway until they reached Gahale's office. They did a quick sweep of the room and did not see him. Calls of, "Clear!" echoed down the hall as they reached their objective, the council room. Another large wooden door was opposite of where they entered. It was not locked. However, the Ancient door behind it was.

"Well, hell. I'm going to have to get some of this wall removed," advised Rodney. "The hand scanner and panel are behind this nice sturdy plaster…and no Ronon you can not blast it!"

Ronon put his gun back in his holster. Sheppard and Teyla gave discreet chuckles.

"Well, anyone have any sort of tools on them?"

"Knives, sir." Lorne, Ronon, and a few others started forward. They took turns chipping and slashing at the cement-like wall. Luckily, it was old and flaky and came apart pretty easy. Not as easy as say drywall but easier than concrete. Still, no one came by to ask, 'What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?' That is until they were almost through the wall.

"Anasta! You sanctimonious whore!"

A snarl curled at her lip when she answered, "Gahale! You gluttonous bastard!"

All the P90's were raised as attention went to a previously concealed side door that must have lead to Gahale's office. A secret passage they had overlooked.

"What is all of this? What have you done to chase everyone away? No one is left."

"Stay where you are!" one of the marines in Lorne's group ordered. Sheppard could feel the tension from his team, Anasta's people, and everyone else standing in the room. Gahale appeared quite alone and seemingly unarmed, but he did think, appeared and seemingly.

"Those which you mistook as stories to scare the young are coming to kill us all." Anasta stood proud and smug. "If it were up to me, I would paint you bright yellow and place a placard on your head reading, _Come and feast! _But it is not up to me…these people…"

Gahale squinted at Sheppard and Ronon. Then his gaze shifted to Rodney and Teyla. "I know you. Yesterday, doomsayers. Charlatans. You do not believe them foolish woman? Or has that crystal you wear on your armor gone to your head? You think the Protectoress cares whether we live or die?"

"You offered a challenge to my predecessor, Dameon Baliam. It has been taken and done. This man was mortally wounded by one of my men. He survived because the Protectoress willed it!" She stomped forward while pointing backwards at John. One of her guards immediately grabbed her and stopped her.

"Nonsense! What trickery is this? What have you done to get the city to sound like it is dying?"

"Look Lord Farquad," Sheppard had had enough. "The Wraith are on their merry little way. That was the warning alarm saying, _run and hide. _We know how to use this facility…"

"Reasonably sure," murmured Rodney.

Sheppard ignored him and kept right on going. "…and will be able to take the fight to them. We need to get through that door…" He pointed at it for further emphasis. "…so we can do that."

"It is locked and her idiot of a predecessor took the key with him knowing only this Protectoress was the only one who could get back in. His apocalyptic speeches have come to backfire because if what you say is true, then we are all doomed."

"Well, your in luck, we know a lot of interesting things about keys and locks." Sheppard did not like this guy when he had met him. He did not like this guy when he had the people hurl fruit at his team. He did not like this guy now while he was arguing with him inside of the meeting room. Unfortunately, this guy was part of the leadership on this world and was a necessary cog, until further notice.

"I'm going with you. This is my city…"

"Your city! You took it by plotting and lying your way across the members of the council. It is time for a change!" Anasta looked beet red and spittle flew from her mouth.

"I was the change. You are a reversal!"

"We'll handle this later you two. Right now, let's focus on the hoard at the door," Sheppard said trying to placate and shut them the hell up.

The Lanteans went back to work excavating the sensor while Gahale and Anasta exchanged irate glares. After another fifteen minutes, they had it completely uncovered along with an access panel just below it. Rodney hooked his laptop up to it and started reading the lines of code scrolling across the screen.

"Just as I feared, only one user can activate it. Okay, Gene Boy, get over here and work that voodoo that you do so well." Rodney slid over from his place directly in front of the panel so Sheppard could run his hand across the wall sensor directly over him.

"Lorne, watch those two," he said pointing to the two natives. Rubbing his hands together, he looked down at McKay. "Are you sure? I mean…"

"Just do it," commanded McKay with all the indignant irritation he could muster, which was quite a bit.

"Okey dokey, here goes nothing." He waved his hand in front of the sensor. Lights lit up in a slow, methodical and linear order starting at the bottom. It was almost like a combination lock on a locker. His gene sequence had initiated an unlocking sequence (or the self-destruct, you could never tell with Ancient outposts).

The door remained closed as the lights, one by one, glowed with a bright blue until the last one on top flickered twice. The door slid benignly open. Sheppard stepped in and the lights in the foyer lit up welcoming them to the facility. Then the tinnitus started again. As he looked back at Rodney and then at Lorne, he realized he was not the only one. This place was just aching for a little companionship and singing a deafening, Siren-like tune. They had traded the alarm for an inner ear problem.

There was always something-- lucky them.

-----------------

_A/N: I bet you thought I forgot about you! Well, I didn't. First, I would like to say, my husband's best friend from sixth grade got married this past weekend and it was a party. My kiddies danced their little asses off. They were so cute. Second, thanks for continuing to read. I might even be able to respond this time…not holding my breath!_


	12. Ch 11: Scylla, Charybdis

Chapter 11

Scylla, Charybdis. Charybdis, Scylla.

Rodney's hands went to his ears. The sound was not painful, just annoying as hell. He guessed hell would be quite annoying with the fire, eternal damnation, and Elvis impersonators, if he believed it really existed. At least, here, the Elvii were not trying to kill them like everyone else.

Gahale and Anasta stopped arguing as the power returned to the small room that Sheppard walked into. He waved them in. "Come on, burning moonlight."

The place was musty smelling with dust floating through the air. It also seemed to creak like an old haunted house. Michael Myers lurking in the corner with his inside out mask would just make it homier. Donald Pleasance would have been the icing on the dilapidated cake.

"Sir, what is that sound?" Lorne asked squinting and trying to clean out his ear with his pinky.

"Welcome to Xerigor, Major. Just hope the mind-numbing headache doesn't make a reappearance." Sheppard kept walking until they came to another door and waved his hand in front of the sensor. The same unlocking process took place before the door opened. "Anasta, anything your people might've put in place against intruders that we need to know about?"

"Nothing that I would know about. It was always opened before we left, or so I was told."

"Unless you disagreed with doctrine," mumbled Gahale.

"You did not disagree. You ridiculed it!"

Gahale's mouth opened for rebuttal.

"You do realize you both are right?" Rodney asked. "The Protectoress left this place so it could be accessed by everyone. She was not a goddess but a scientist…not unlike myself, might I add."

"Goddess or scientist?" Ronon asked in all seriousness.

Rodney harrumphed loudly, "See what you've done?" He looked pointedly at Sheppard. "He now thinks he has a sense of humor."

Sheppard shrugged and kept on walking.

Lights continued to flicker to life as the entire complex welcomed them. The tinnitus rang with a steady buzz in his ear. And, as Maj. Lorne and one of the others in his group continued to place their fingers and hands to their ears, he held the satisfying knowledge that he was not alone.

"It's kind of like that strange little kid that's standing in line with you for Thunder Mountain at Disney World. They won't shut up about how many times they've been on the ride when all you want to do is stand there in peace," observed Lorne.

"Or McKay," added Sheppard.

"Hey!" But before he could make his scathing denial, the radio cut into the conversation.

"_Sir, we have movement heading your way inside the city. They are approaching the city hall."_

"Tell Tangred, it's a go." Sheppard looked back at Gahale. He was a crafty old bastard, but not very original, at least, not in his first attempt at sneaking up behind them.

Rodney looked at the halls that looked remarkably unlike Atlantis in their simplicity. Atlantis had a fancy-schmancy cathedral feeling. This place had a government, contracted construction feel-- perfunctory with very little aesthetic. Meaning, it was very rectangular. Windows, doors, and the tiling on the floor was almost boring compared to the arches and patterns he was used to within the city's walls.

Sheppard held a life sign detector as did most of the ATA gene crowd. "Looks like we're on the right path…hall…corridor." No other blips, save them, appeared on the little screen. However, a layout of the complex was faintly outlined on the little square. The lights continued to click on with their progression. The whir of energy laden conduits and the rattle of gear were the only extraneous sounds.

"We have a transporter," observed Lorne as he took the lead. He waved his hand and was rebuked. "Guess this place still has a soft spot for you, sir."

Rodney looked at the two residents of this planet and saw two very different reactions. Anasta looked like she would have been making the sign of the cross over and over again. Gahale looked a little awestruck but also slightly angry. Rodney thought he would be too if someone had taken all of this away from him.

"_Sir, Tangred's forces have temporarily pulled those advancing off of you. You should see those catapult things hurl boulders, sir." _Rodney thought that it would have looked even cooler hurling pumpkins.

"Trebuchets," said Sheppard.

"_Big ass slingshot on wheels, sir." _O'Shea laughed back. "_Oh hey, where do you think you're going?"_

Rodney realized, a little belatedly, that the young man was not talking to them.

A quiet snick was all that was heard over the radio. "_Nowhere…that's what I thought."_

"Keep up the good work, sergeant." Sheppard clicked off and peeked over his shoulder at the group. "Let's head on down."

Rodney exited in the second group with Lorne and Teyla. Ronon came in the third with Gahale and the rest of Lorne's team. Sheppard and Anasta were already at a closed door down the hallway-- the only door in the hallway.

The sound in his head was almost a continuous hum that pointed everything at the door. Sheppard ran his hand across it and the unlocking sequence took its sweet time. The door opened into a hallway that curved in both directions. They split up. Lorne took his group and Gahale one way and Sheppard took Anasta and his groups the other.

"_Sir, this is Jumper 6, we have movement outside the city that is not engaging Tangred's people. They are…hold on…disappearing from our screens."_

"Tunnels," Rodney said. "The bedrock masks the entire facility below ground…so if the locals dug tunnels…"

"Heads up to everyone in the city. We may have enemy infiltration. Jumpers 5 and 6 keep an eye out for blips that just appear out of nowhere," instructed Sheppard.

After the acknowledgments, Sheppard turned to Rodney. "Guess we know what Gahale has in mind." He clicked his earpiece. "Lorne, did you get that. Search Lord Farquad again. He might have a transmitter."

"_Yes sir."_

Rodney kept following. This was not his thing. He was not a fighter. He was not a lover either…well, maybe just a little. He _**was **_a thinker. He _**was **_a problem solver. He _**was **_a pivotal piece in the machine. As he watched Sheppard, he realized that the man must have some higher brain functions that could rival his on a slow day. A day where he had not had any caffeine and was up for forty-eight hours straight…no…fifty hours straight. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. Ever. He had been having these revelations a lot lately.

There were doors on the left side of the curved hall, but they came across only one on the inner right side. Sheppard stood in front of the door rubbing his eyes. Rodney could hear the pinging practically vibrate through his skull. Sheppard and he were looking at their surroundings through veritable slits. This had to be the place. The LSD agreed.

Sheppard waved his hand and nothing unlocked. He did it again with the same result. For the first time since this part of mission had started, Sheppard sagged for a moment and exhaled loudly. "What do you think we need to do, McKay?" He sounded and looked very tired.

This door did not have a panel that was visible. This door's sensor was slightly different from the previous ones. This door needed something extra. "Touch the sensor," he advised.

"Yeah…of course…" Sheppard did it and closed his eyes. He gave a half-hearted snort. "It _desires _a password…" He tilted his head to the side and then smiled. He spoke loudly and clearly, "Grasshopper." The door slid open to a large circular room with a modified weapon's chair in the middle. The computer consoles lined the walls with monitors over each. Their brains vibrated as the group stepped in and looked around at each piece of equipment.

Rodney went to each station and finally stopped at one. "This one is the main control interface with the chair and the facility as a whole…I think."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you're right, McKay."

The tinnitus increased and he hardly heard Sheppard.

"You don't have to shout," Teyla said as she stood beside Rodney.

"Didn't realize we were!" Sheppard loudly answered as he stood in front of the chair.

"Get over here and see if this pipe organ will initialize for you, because it's still playing favorites!" Rodney waved Sheppard over to where he stood in front of a computer station.

Sheppard ambled over and touched the console. It remained dark. "Do you think it wants another password?"

"I haven't got a clue."

"I've got to admit, the sound increases as I get closer to the chair. Maybe it's a beacon type of thing saying, what you want is right here!"

Rodney shrugged. "It can't be that easy…oh, wait, what am I saying? It would be, but I'm sure there's a price…"

Sheppard nodded in agreement. He handed Ronon his P90 and walked back to the lethal dentist's chair. As Rodney looked at it, he noticed the differences. It was rounded and cradled the sitter. It was made for someone to sit in it for a long period of time. If this was the control for the entire facility, then the user had to be comfortable. What concerned Rodney were the tiny holes all over the chair.

"Sir, nothing the other way," Lorne reported as he stepped into the rotunda.

"Understood. Watch the Lockhorn's and have two of your men stationed at the transporter. Ronon, Teyla…"

Both nodded at him. They knew what to do: back the team up.

Sheppard sat down, the chair reclined, a beam of light from the ceiling centered on him, and he let out a slow exhale. It was quickly followed by a pained inhale and a forced yell, which Rodney had heard clearly, because the ringing was gone. However, Sheppard gripped the gel pads on the chair's armrests so tightly his knuckles were white.

Now, it was the problem solver's turn to go to work.

-----------------

_Toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch!_

A long stream of information greeted him like a spear through the chest when the chair finished reclining.

_Heartbeats-sensors-system algorithms-Wraith darts-malfunctions-insufficient materials-insufficient staff-internal controls-initialization-communications-primary-secondary-Hive ships-energy consumption-error-baseline data-reinitialize-planetary defenses-insert core-waiting for commands--_

Or maybe it was more like an anvil to the head, or a safe dropped from the second story building, or the piano dangling on a rope…

_Waiting for commands-waiting for commands-waiting for commands--insert core--_

It was too fast. He could not even figure out where to begin. He had no idea where he was. It was dark. He was alone. He was overwhelmed. He felt like he was shaking in his boots-- not from fear but from utter confusion.

_Insert core--_

"JOHN!"

McKay. McKay could guide him. But how could he contact him?

"JOHN! Open your eyes!"

It wasn't McKay's voice. It wasn't Ronon's either. Hell, it definitely wasn't Teyla's.

_Insert core--waiting for commands--_

"John," it said softer this time. "John, command a complete initialization of the control room."

The onslaught continued. He did not know how to slow his mind down enough to give such a single instruction.

_Insert core--waiting for commands--_

"Calm down, focus, and think it, John."

He took a big breath and pictured it in his mind. _Initialize chair room._

"Close enough," the voice mused. "Now we wait."

He felt a tingle somewhere in his head when the power surged through the each piece of equipment within the room. He felt the warmth of energy flowing through the crystals and conduits like blood through a body. He had become part of the city.

"I'm here John. Open your eyes."

_Insert core--_

John opened his eyes. He was in the cavernous hangar. Newton and he stood on a platform overlooking the huge structure. This time it was not empty. A vortex swirled below them where the floor and the ships should have been. It was all of the commands, requests and minutiae of the computer fighting for his attention.

"Welcome to the Shipyards of Xerigor or otherwise affectionately known as the Deep. I'm here to instruct you on the usage of the interactive network that runs the complex. For right now, I can contain the tempest in the whirlpool. I can perform this task in this form or as Tersane, the last administrative officer in charge of production."

"The Protectoress, I presume?" Sheppard grunted out. The information for the moment remained trapped by the swirling apparition below him. But it was trying to bubble up and deluge him in a torrent of silted strings of records combined with requests. He had read what had happened to O'Neill. He did not want to start spouting Ancient in the middle of dinner. He was very glad it was staying down below.

_Insert core--_

A woman stood before him with long brown hair. She wore the Ancient garb and smiled ingratiatingly at him. Tersane, protector of Xerigor.

He was so going to think Picard.

"Newton," he replied.

She was a looker, though. The Colonel quickly reappeared on the small overlook. John had to admit that he was a little disappointed on a truly base level, but there was something cathartic about working with this image. This time around they would succeed at the mission. He would remain to the end and get to say good-bye.

_Insert core--waiting for commands--_

He could not keep the repetitive request with the others in the data whirlpool. Anyway, there should have been a blinking cursor after the request. _Insert core--waiting for commands-- Blink, blink, blink._

"Dr. McKay needs to replace the nucleus construct." Newton stopped, looked at John with a half smile and clarified. "The Crunch Bar."

"Oh yeah that." John grimaced because he had almost forgotten about the crystal laden piece of technology. No wonder the heavy weight sitting on his chest and in his head had distracted him. This chair took so much more concentration than the Atlantis chair or the Puddle Jumper. Firing drones, while the city was under siege, was less stressful than wrangling this mustang of a machine into compliance.

"Can I communicate with him?"

"Yes. Concentrate on virtual communication. But I warn you, when he reinserts the core; it's going to be loud in here. I'll help you filter it out."

_Insert core--waiting for commands--_

"Joy."

"Now, concentrate on virtual communication."

"I'd rather play a nice game of chess."

Newton arched an eyebrow and John concentrated.

It was like a roulette wheel whirling into place and stopping on his number. He concentrated on the need to talk to McKay. Instantly, he was standing next to Rodney as the scientist activated a sliding drawer on one of the computers.

With relief, he greeted his teammate, "Rodney."

McKay screamed and jumped back from the console while clutching the core to his chest. Weapons were quickly aimed at him and John thought that appearing out of the ether was probably not the best idea he had ever had.

But, it was perversely satisfying.

-----------------

_A/N: Phew. Well, Friendshipper (Sholio) brought up a valid point in her LJ awhile back. Some of you may not understand all the references the characters make. And, I love to pick ones that are well known and some that are obscure. Coming from the same Gen X demographic as John and Rodney, I love to pick things that my friends and family would say or know. If you ever want to know what the hell I'm talking about, just ask! _


	13. Ch 12: Ultimate Cosmic Power

Chapter 12

Ultimate Cosmic Power, Sheppard's Small Cranial Case

"Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ, Sheppard!" His heart stopped. It had to have stopped. One usually did not survive such a scare. "Little warning next time!"

All of the weapons in the room lowered. The eyes, belonging to the users of the weapons, went from the John Sheppard standing at the computer console with Rodney to the John Sheppard seated in the chair.

"I need your help, McKay. You need to put Tab A into Slot B. And believe me, don't over react when I show a little discomfort. Also, I'm going to need you to set up a protocol list. I need to know what to do first…there is too much information."

Sheppard stood there waiting for him to answer with a fatigued and pained look on his face. He resembled the holograms they had run across in Atlantis, a little golden and blurry. Those holograms exuded arrogant confidence. Sheppard exuded extreme exhaustion. It was not a big confidence builder. Teyla cautiously approached as Rodney ran through what he needed the Colonel to start with and actually decided not to take the bait on his last statement. To ridicule Sheppard's limited brain capacity right now was in bad taste, even for him.

"Are you all right, Colonel? We heard you…express this discomfort."

"Yeah, you screamed like a…" Rodney agreed absently as he studied each reading coming across the laptop. Bad taste could not remain tapped down for long especially at such an opening.

"Shut it, McKay," suggested Ronon, humorlessly. He remained near Gahale and Anasta keeping a protective eye on the pair.

Sheppard snorted at Rodney, nodded at Ronon, and answered Teyla, "Yeah, I'm hanging in there."

Rodney checked the monitor over the console. "Okay, before I put the candy bar back into the vending machine, let me set up the list of things to do." Rodney typed on his laptop as Sheppard stood with his virtual eyes closed.

"I'm sending it…now." He depressed the "Enter" key.

Sheppard's head ticked towards his shoulder. "Received…oh, this is soo weird."

"What's weird?" Rodney asked.

"When I used the other Ancient chairs-- the properly functioning Ancient chairs-- I'm just sending directions or asking it to do something. This is totally different. It's like I'm part of the computer. Part of this place. The information is just there, available for access."

Did this surprise Rodney? Hell yes, it surprised him. This chair, not only looked different, it had many added protocols and directives that were unfamiliar to him. He was not completely sure of the consequence for replacing the crystalline piece of high tech wizardry.

Rodney looked at the brain in his hand. He hoped that this device would not download anything into his friend's mind. Frying the human's brain would not help the situation.

"Sheppard, it's not trying to impart the information directly into your brain, is it?"

"No. It's more like briefing me on status. I can take it or leave it…it's just not that easy leaving it. It's like shoving that last bit of garbage into the can and it just won't stay down."

"Nice image, Colonel," Rodney retorted.

Sheppard snorted and looked around the room. He stopped at Anasta. "I met your Protectoress. She was the last administrator of this place. Her name was Tersane."

"I knew it. Not a god or deity or any other sort of spirit. She was just a person…" interrupted Gahale. The vindictive tone set Rodney's teeth on edge, even if he was thinking the same thing.

"Oh, I wouldn't say _that, _Farquad," replied Sheppard with a smooth sneer. "Remember, her people built this place. They are and were light years ahead of us, even though they're still a royal pain in the ass."

However, Anasta smiled calmly at the news. Rodney watched her as she accepted the morsel of hope that her beliefs were not completely wrong. They were just a tad askew.

Gahale puffed up his chest. "Still, _not _a god." He directed his next question at Sheppard. "And, why do you call me this…this, Farquad?"

"Because, it suits you." Sheppard turned to Rodney before Gahale could answer. "Go ahead, McKay, now or never."

Rodney looked at the black rectangle with pink crystals, one last time, before he slid it into place. The ringing in the ears had nothing on the scream that came from Sheppard, the seated and the standing. The sound surrounded them and made the floors vibrate. The communication system carried the agonized yell throughout the complex and it practically shook the walls.

The hologram dropped to his knees and blinked out of existence. Ignoring the increased chatter on the radio demanding answers, Rodney looked at the readouts and saw a stream of information racing across the screen. Now, Rodney knew why Sheppard had had the reaction. All the information was directed at him. Rodney whipped around just in time to see Ronon reaching to pull Sheppard from the chair.

"NO!" Ronon glared back at him demanding an explanation of why he should not. "He's physically connected." Rodney turned back around. Hit a few keys on the glorified pipe organ and a display of the chair and its occupant flashed onto it. The little holes that covered the chair provided an exit for fine tendrils of light that were connected with his body at different points. It was not extracting or penetrating the skin. It was just providing sensory information directly to his nervous system. Rodney laughed to himself, "Just."

Sheppard **was **part of the computer. He was the brain. As Rodney looked through the clear panel that held the core, he realized it was the heart. Energy pulsed and beat like it was pumping life's blood through a huge body. Instead of blood, it was sending signals and data wherever it needed to go.

He studied Sheppard's readings more closely. The seated Sheppard was at a state of rest with a very active mind. Rodney started thinking that maybe they should have brought Beckett with them.

"Dr. McKay!" Teyla yelled looking between Ronon and him. She was wanting to know what Ronon should do. With the distraction, he noticed the chatter on the radios, Anasta and Gahale flattened against the wall, and Lorne forcefully walking over.

"What was that, McKay?"

"Sheppard," he answered, "It was the Colonel…Get Beckett here, now! Don't touch him, Ronon!" He focused on the monitors again and let his mouth hang open for a second. All of the boards were lighting up. All of the Ancient facilities on this planet were powering up. All of the systems were tied into this one room.

And Sheppard was the nexus.

-----------------

He was the eye of the storm-- the center of the vortex.

He controlled everything--felt everything--was Everything.

It was vomit worthy.

"Don't get lost, John!" Newton shouted over the thundering of an air current bowling by and through them. "Don't forget why you're here!"

"Why is that?" he wondered out loud.

"Push it back down! I can't do it for you anymore. You are the one in control!" Newton's fatigues rippled as the wind whip around him. He clung to the rail of the overlook, never taking his eyes off of John. "The protocols, John! Don't forget the protocols!"

The heartbeats of every single being within the facility, outside of the facility, in the Hive ships, and on the planet rebounded within his chest. The thrum of the energy beating within crystals and conduits pulsed within his veins. The access to knowledge…he could download anything he wanted…

"NO!" screamed Newton. "You chose for me to remain in this form because you trusted him. You trust your team. Remember the list Rodney sent to you. What is number one on the list!"

"Protocols?" The list whirled directly into his mind. Number one: Shut down nonessential systems. Addendum: Essential systems are as follows: Communication, power, weapons, long range sensors, short range sensors…It went on.

John focused on things not on the Addendum and one by one shut them down. Pieces were missing like the barracks to house the staff…Melis End…he could not detect it. What he did detect were the bunkers underneath that had survived. With each action, the storm began to quell. The virtual wind reduced and he could focus on each task with increasing ease.

Number two on the list was to open the underground escape system. He found each and every place to hide from the Wraith and opened them. The hangars below ground could hold thousands. He released the access tunnels' locks and found the transporters connected to it. He opened them up to two way transportation, no easy task. Now all they had to do was get the word out. His mind started to wander.

"John, you need to concentrate." Newton grabbed his arm as the vortex rose, trying to consume him.

"No, I can handle it." John looked deep into the center and picked his next item. "Number three…activate long range sensors…" He said it to himself.

The Hive ships were as cold a sensor echo as a Wraith's hand pressed to your chest. He exhaled a lingering stench from his being at the memories that liked to resurface long enough to shake him. He pushed down the vortex of information and focused on what the complex was telling him. He could feel the individual blips on the four ships, as they raced towards the planet. He could also feel the power they exerted, but they were still too far away to touch…so he moved on to the next number on the list.

Number four was to run a diagnostic on defensive and offensive systems, if possible. "Running diagnostic." They did not have time to check the entire system, but these programs had to work if they wanted to save anyone, including themselves.

Equations, numbers, codes, errors, corrections and much more streamed before him. The volume threatened to lose him in its song and dance routine. Shields and power grids raced through his mind. He wanted to sink to his knees again. He groaned.

"John, only one more and then you need to rest," counseled his own harbinger of news and guidance.

Number five…short range sensors. They had waited patiently to scream their message of warning. "Darts incoming," he reported tonelessly to whoever was listening in the outside world. "No weapons…All weapons off line…" He should feel more panic. He should do something.

"Let the pilots of the Gateships do their jobs," his A. I. instructed. Then, Newton grabbed him and held him up, supporting his imaginary weight. He smiled at John and John wished it was the real person.

He felt the Jumpers take off. He heard the human chatter on the radios and the computers talk to one another. He saw them as they met the darts in the space between the dilation field and the far distant Hives. He witnessed the battle. He felt as each enemy blip on the screen died. It was horrible. It was like the absence of noise, light and air.

He did not want to think about what would happen when he killed the Hives--

--or if one of theirs was destroyed.

-----------------

"Darts incoming…"

Rodney swallowed, because the words used by the voice sounded like a ghost whispering in his ear.

"No weapons…All weapons off line…"

Lorne was already on the horn to the Jumper pilots over the city. "They're going to intercept…and the Doc's on his way, Dr. McKay."

What had they done? Nothing they had experienced rivaled this. Would the place stay active once Sheppard removed himself from the chair. Would it allow anyone else to take over? So many damn questions that he had to order in his mind and to deal with first.

The monitor showed how Sheppard was working through each item on Rodney's hastily put together list. Sheppard plucked each item from the bouquet of data available to him and dealt with it accordingly. He hoped that Sheppard could follow the list as closely as possible. "Teyla, I'm going to need you over there. That's the long range sensor array. We need to keep an eye on the Wraith."

She did not move and looked at him as if he had made a mistake. "You can do this Teyla. It's just like the scanners back home. You've used them before."

She tentatively walked over to the console throwing Rodney glances over her shoulder. Never the less, she began to interpret what was on the screen. "The Hives are still out of range for this place's defenses. The Jumpers are on an intercept course with the darts…there are six. Two minutes to engagement."

As he had thought about how Sheppard had his moments, Teyla had hers. She had adapted from living in the Ozarks to living uptown. It was not quite Granny sitting on the top of the jalopy and moving to Beverly Hills, but it was close. She had gifts in dealing with others that he could never hope to achieve. She was not the hick from the sticks like he had first thought.

"The Jumpers have engaged the enemy," she said it as she stood regally. She reported the happenings with the calm everyone expected of her. Rodney hoped he would never see her in a situation that rattled her worse than the last couple of days.

He realized what he had to do next. He had to get Sheppard to release controls to the consoles in this room and only in this room. Rodney needed to take some of the burden. "Sheppard, can you hear me?" He waited a good five count before trying again. "Shep…"

"Yeah, I can hear you." Sheppard reappeared, but this time Rodney was expecting it and ready. The Colonel looked even more worn and tired. "This is…really hard, McKay. So much concentration…just to talk I have to shove everything away…"

"Then I'll make this quick. Can you release the some of the controls? I think this configuration is just a last ditch effort to protect the facility in their last hours. There are too many access points for it to actually function with just only one person."

"M-makes sense. I can ask the A.I."

"Be careful, the last talking computers we ran into tried to fry your noodle."

"The Pavilions were eager, liked to chat. He's a little more reserved. Let me see what I can find out." He disappeared.

Rodney knew that they were way in over their heads, but what else was new? It just would not be a day in Pegasus without certain doom, destruction and death waiting at the door like the Land Shark.

Rodney gave all three the mental finger, as the consoles in the room shutdown, leaving them completely in the dark.

"Well nuts."

-----------------

_A/N: The author begs forgiveness at such tardiness in updating. The end of the school year just had me going and going. So, now summer is here and maybe I can let the kids free range and fend for themselves…Food? You need food? Just kidding…_


	14. Ch 13: Have a Nice Day!

Chapter 13

Have a Nice Day!

"He's right, of course," greeted Newton when Sheppard returned his attention to the inside of the machine. "We were running for our lives. The Wraith just did not know what we had here. We had it hidden so well. They thought it was a just another research outpost. We could really keep our secrets." Newton looked like he was reminiscing instead of recounting.

Sheppard smirked at the slip before answering, "Can I unlock the terminals?" Waiting for the reply, he closed his eyes and watched as more of the directives he had given were carried out. So much information trying to distract, takeover, consume…

"Yes, but it won't alleviate all of the stress."

"If it's just a little bit, I'll take it." Anything had to be better than this.

"Alrighty then, look for the command codes for the lockdown. Then release it," Newton told him.

Sheppard studied the swirling mass of data before him and picked out the appropriate piece of information. Then, he initiated the command. The consoles shut off for an exaggerated second before returning to full power. Some of the information swirling below and through him siphoned to the terminals. He felt himself sag with relief . The pressure was not totally alleviated, but he did not feel like a standard sized pillowcase trying to have a king sized pillow shoved into it anymore.

"Oh that is so much better." And it was. "Now what?"

"Relax and exit. You need to rest. The complex will remain functioning, but you will be the only one sanctioned to access the chair."

"Sounds good to me." Sheppard felt himself physically and mentally relax as he cut his link. The computer, on the other hand, seemed to reluctantly release him. He opened his eyes as the chair returned to an upright position along with his tray…He needed a stewardess, sorry, flight attendant to get him a blanket and a pillow.

The single light overhead clicked off and his senses returned to him just in time to hear more boisterous arguments from the locals. Now he knew how Elizabeth felt when Rodney and he would go at it.

"The Wraith are probably nothing more than mere inconveniences, as well!"

"You have not been listening to them you foolish old man!"

"Dame, please calm yourself…" pleaded the waif of a woman, Peo.

"Silence, Peo! This old wart has deluded himself long enough. His fear leaks like the stench from the sewers in the streets. You have done nothing for the people, but they only see that you have not forced them to do anything! They have grown complacent. The Insubstantiate, the Wraith, or the Devil Incarnate is on its way and you still dispute its existence!"

Sheppard blinked. It seemed that Anasta and Gahale had kept up their heated conversation after he went to ask the Colonel whether or not Rodney could take some of the burden. Because of the distraction, he did not notice Carson, who is not a flight attendant. Usually, he would have noticed five foot ten inches of Scot holding his hand. He guessed just not today.

"Hold still, Col. Sheppard." John looked up at Carson and realized his brain was a couple of drum beats off from the rest of the orchestra.

"When did you get here?" John went to stand, but Carson held a meaty paw on his chest in restraint.

"Just now. How are you feeling?"

Sheppard thought for a second and came to the conclusion that he felt awful. He felt drained, wrung out, tired, flattened, exhausted and trodden upon. He needed a long vacation and/or a millennium's worth of sleep. "Fine," is how he answered because he knew that neither of those things would be happening anytime soon. "And could someone please shut the two of them up?" he wearily asked, pointing to Anasta and Gahale, who continued to argue, loudly.

Ronon gave his feral grin and turned to aim it at the pair. For added flair, he fingered his _beloved _in a most menacing way. They noticed immediately. The pair pushed back against the wall and silenced themselves quickly. Peo joined them in shirking under the Satedan's gleaming, unfriendly grin. With his task done, he turned back around and nodded at Sheppard and Beckett.

Teyla walked from her console and faced Gahale. "I assure you, Gahale. The Wraith are quite real. Right now, both of you…" She gave a lingering glance at Anasta and continued, "…both of you need to focus on the safety of your people."

Gahale looked ready to say more and Anasta pursed her lips. They remained quiet for the time being.

"Thanks," breathed Sheppard. They were not helping his "condition" at all.

Beckett kept tutting as he held Sheppard's wrist. "You're pulse is a little fast and…" He paused as he reached into his bag to pull out a blood pressure cuff. He pumped it up and released the little air valve. He finished his sentence a minute or two later. "You're BP is also higher than normal…but nothing to be worried about…yet." He gave his award winning, disapproving glare.

"Thanks," Sheppard said, again, ignoring the award winning, disapproving glare.

Lorne walked into the room and nodded at John. "Good to see your corporeal self awake, sir."

Sheppard, finally sitting up, rotated his head and neck, but remained seated with legs on both sides of the chair. "Thank you, Major. Report."

"Gahale's men," as he said it, he gave a smirk aimed at the leader, even though his back was to the man, "Have been subdued and taken into custody. We have the city for the moment. Tangred has led her forces inside the walls and posted guards at all entrances, sir."

"Good to know. Let's get everyone inside the city walls and _**back-up **_her guards, but I'll leave that to you. We still have those me unaccounted for. They don't register on the internal sensors, either." He snarled his lip and went to stand. He immediately fell back into the chair. "Whoa."

He had tried to ignore how much dealing with the chair had taken out of him, physically. All of the concentration left a delightfully annoying headache. He truly felt ridden hard and put away wet.

"Colonel?" Teyla asked, diverting her trip back to one of the consoles across the room.

"Stood up too fast. Give me a second."

-----------------

"You'll need more than a second. The amount of data you've processed is amazing…not as amazing as if I were the one doing it…" Rodney stopped as everyone stared at him. "What? Just saying."

Sheppard squinted disapprovingly and turned back to Lorne. "Anyway, that was only the first try at attacking this planet. There'll be more darts. That was only a scouting mission. But we did give them something to think about." Sheppard's people had done well. The Wraith would rethink trying to muscle their way into the atmosphere of this planet.

Rodney held his grumble to a barely audible murmur at being dismissed so easily. He turned back to his console and started calling up different information. File after file, after file, after file vied for his attention. It made his eyes hurt. He was frankly amazed the Colonel had handled the invasion as well as he did, because keeping up visually was a daunting task. Of course, one that he could handle with his eyes shut…so to speak.

He peaked over his shoulder at Sheppard. Carson was coddling and cooing over him, checking him head to toe as modesty allowed or didn't. Carson lifted Sheppard's shirt and the colonel tried to put it back down, because his men and the other's were all in the room.

"Ach, just let me check your chest, ya child."

"_Doc_," Sheppard said it like a warning through his teeth. "Think we could do this somewhere else?"

Rodney snorted to himself, not so quietly.

"I heard that, McKay!" Sheppard yelled. Carson and Sheppard were cut off by Gahale.

"No! I will not allow this to go on! You are trying to steal this city and its wonders from us! You're trying to put her kind back into the seat of power. You're trying to cover that there are no bad devils on the way! You want Xerigor for yourselves!"

Apparently, it had only been a matter of time and disposition for Gahale to start protesting again. Teyla's intervention had not calmed the paranoia as much as Sheppard had hoped. "Big surprise," whispered Rodney.

"Somebody get that idiot out of here!" McKay yelled over his shoulder. Rodney did not look to see if the request was being followed or not. He continued to study the code from the diagnostics on the planetary defense system as it downloaded to his laptop. Some errors were popping up but nothing catastrophic so far. He checked other, various data and saw that it was also behaving.

The scuffle behind him began in earnest as someone tried to do the very thing he asked.

"Unhand me! You want to put _her _in my office. You want someone who will bow down to you! I see what is going on here! Usurpers! I won't let you take what is mine!"

Rodney heard a Ronon sounding grunt, saw the screen fill with more data than necessary, and turned to look at the people fighting behind him. Gahale was stupidly running towards Sheppard and Beckett, while Ronon took aim at his back.

There was a blinding, flash of light, but not from Ronon's gun. Then, there was Sheppard's voice booming across the room, except that it was not just his voice. A woman's voice, transposed with his, came resounding out of his mouth and across the room.

"You foolish child! You arrogant little nobody! I am trying to save this world and you! These people are here to help you, you blind and deaf little boy!" Rodney watched as Sheppard pushed Carson away and walked quickly across the floor to meet Gahale. "None of you can see what is right at the end of your noses. The Wraith are the enemy that made us leave! They pushed us back to Atlantis and then back to Earth. These people are here to make sure that this culling does not happen! Now shut up and let them work!" As he spoke, he shoved Gahale back against the wall. He held him by the throat and then lifted the bulky man off of the floor a few inches with just the one hand.

Frightened and speechless, as much from a hand around the throat as from the fear of such a display, Gahale choked out a, "Yes…"

"Good. The Wraith are coming. They don't care who any of you are." Sheppard let go and wobbled. "As for you." He looked down at Anasta and Peo, face down on the floor. "All are welcome." The bright aura left Sheppard. He blinked a few times before he turned to look Rodney. "Thought so," he said before sitting down hard on the composite floor.

Carson ran to his side and gently laid him down. "Colonel, relax." He looked for the medic he had brought with him, who was scrambling to catch up.

Gahale rubbed at his throat and stammered, "What are you trying to pull? Spiritualism for the common folk, a little spirit channeling?"

"No, you bloody fool, that was the Ancient that ran this place. And if I were you, I'd stay on her good side. She seemed quite pissed," growled Carson grabbing his bag from the marine corpsman.

Before Gahale could answer, Ronon grabbed him and shoved him out the door. There were squawking, an energy whine, sudden silence, and then a door snicked shut. Ronon reentered and smiled. "Found a room where he could take a nap. Got tired of his mouth flapping."

Everyone gave an appreciative nod in his direction.

Sheppard remained on the floor quietly talking to Carson. And Rodney stayed put. He did not move. He did not speak. He simply stared for all of about five seconds. "OK then, let's get back to work…" He paused before addressing Lorne, "We need to start getting everyone into those bunkers. Anasta. Dame? Oh for…get up! She's gone!" Anasta looked up at him. "What system is in place to warn other cities of danger?"

We have runners and stations with signal horns to announce them. Each city is under its own form of government. Each place has its own rule. The Order is the binding force. We are everywhere," she stated as she stood up with Peo's help.

"We'll send runners and Jumpers…so I guess they won't be running so much as flying…but that ought to get things moving…they won't all drop on their faces as soon as it appears will they?" Rodney asked, ordering what he needed to do in his mind.

"It is our way," she replied as she stood up.

"I'll make it happen. I'll go find Tangred," said Lorne and left with one member of his team. As he walked out, he gave orders for the other two members of his team to stay put and to keep an eye out for the locals.

Rodney returned his attention to the puddle of goo on the floor named, Lt. Col. John Sheppard. "What do you mean, _thought so_?" Rodney's ire was definitely up. He was angry because once again it looked like Sheppard had kept something from them.

"Not an A.I. It's an Ancient acting on the sly."

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? The Ancients must have a package deal to come visit John Sheppard, eighth wonder of Pegasus! But, I already, kind of, sort of figured that part out," he conceded with a grimace.

"Golly gee Rodney, now who's holding out. I _just _figured it out." He paused and gave McKay a calculating look. "And, by the way, what are the first seven?" Sheppard asked as he gave up resisting Carson and let the doctor push him back down onto the floor.

"Shut up."

Sheppard gave a small laugh and closed his eyes.

Rodney would have said number one was himself, but that might be considered a little egocentric. "Just, shut up and rest," Rodney directed instead. This was not the end by a long shot.

-----------------

_A/N: WIP's are so volatile. I hit a brick wall with this chapter. Got to this part and went, now what do I do? Writing this way is definitely a challenge! Now I see why readers get so frustrated with this style of storytelling. It's not efficient. _


	15. Ch 14: Do the Hustle!

Chapter 14

Do the Hustle!

As the day progressed, the people of the planet were herded (and he really hated that term used in conjunction with people in this galaxy) into the underground areas. No one was to be left on the surface. Of course, there was always a five to ten minute delay to get the people off the ground and onto their feet. More than once, the Marines had to say, "No, not the Protectoress, but you might want to get a move on, because her evil and hungry enemy is real, and on the way."

Lorne had reported that once the locals got over the actual existence and non-return of their gods, the bitching began. The 'you've got to be kidding me' reaction started to take hold and was shoved into the Marine's faces. They handled it with their normal grace and aplomb. "Your choice, move it or lose it."

In the mean time, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon went to different quarters (or so he assumed), which were across the hallway, and slept. Rodney wanted to go to sleep and then he didn't, too much to do. In the end, Rodney decided he could sleep later. The planetary weapon was done self-diagnosing. The defenses were now online. He was the kid in the candy store, the blue whale in an ocean of krill, a puppy with two peters. He was studying to his heart's content. It was a Nirvana of crystals and easily accessed information.

The defenses were, as he surmised, a shield, like on Atlantis, and drones. A whole lotta drones. Pete Puma would have a whole lotta lumps if Bugs had his way. He knew Sheppard would unleash a little love with the whole lotta drones as a warm up act. They could take out the darts and maybe one or two of the Hives, but there were five of the mega ships out there. Hence, the shield and the larger than life death ray.

Speaking of the shield, it was not a planetary shield, but one for the shipyard and above ground complex. If those two installations went, then the planet might just rip itself apart because of the explosion. It left the surrounding areas unprotected, hence the underground bunkers, or so he scientifically hypothesized.

Disappointingly, the shield led Rodney to the power source. He had seen it a couple of times with Ancient technology, geothermal. There was no nice portable ZPM to plug in or borrow. But, the system made a certain amount of sense; the power requirement to manufacture ships was definitely huge, in the quantifiable sense. ZPM's, while a very powerful battery, would just not cut it and needed to be replaced. This source was renewable, in a way. They had plenty of time to use it, or so the Ancients mistakenly thought. Plus, a race, who happened to seed the galaxy, would probably not give a mere thought to extinguishing a planet's core.

Anyway, it did him absolutely no good back home, because he could not very well take the planet's core with him. And that sucked. The application might be useful, but he was not going to hold his breath.

On the bright side, the geothermal energy also powered the main and massive energy weapon. The weapon, instead of using drones, shot a ball of energy, similar to the one Chaya had sent to protect them over Proculus. The weapon itself was part of the complex above ground. Much like how Zelenka and he had channeled electricity through Atlantis to power the shield, four large pylons, placed at each corner of the building, collected the energy directly from large, underground conduits. Once it built up enough, it discharged a field of plasma energy that could take on a couple, or ten, Hive ships. It was ten times (give or take .5 percent) more powerful than the LaGrange Point Satellite. That did not suck.

In addition, the shield did not have to come down. The monster actually used the shield to focus the energy like a lens. The person in the chair directed the plasma globule at the chosen target and boom. Bye, bye Hives!

The weapon was powering up as he rolled through diagram after spec after informational bliss. The main weapon was great for an all or nothing type of fight. It was not so great for a sustained action. It took the weapon awhile to recharge, leaving the city vulnerable. The shield would be at its weakest strength right after the shot. This thing was meant as a back up. The warships would have taken out anyone or anything remaining or given the weapon time to recharge before firing again. They did not have any warships at their disposal right now. Not even the Daedalus because it was busy in the Milky Way Galaxy. Stupid Ori.

However, the show would still be great.

"Yes, it will be."

Rodney spun around and faced the Protectoress, herself. Tersane stood in radiant glory between the doorway and him. She sheepishly looked at her toes. A show of self-deprecation, he thought, how lovely. Rodney was not buying what she was selling.

"Thought you might be lurking around somewhere. Sheppard's sleeping. You might want to come back later when he's a little more lively."

"That's all right. I'll see him later. I just wanted to say, thank you." Her velvety smooth voice oozed sincerity.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Apology accepted for nearly getting us all killed by your lovely people. Now, I'm sure the High-and-Mighties need you back for a game of cosmic shuffle board at the Ascended retirement home."

She nodded her head in a calculated acknowledgement. "Your people are the first ones, in a very long time, that could help. You are the first that have a chance to help with our little mess."

"_Mess? _What right…"

"To trick you into coming here? None what so ever. But I could not sit back any longer. I, too, know how to bend the rules." She smirked and slowly blinked her eyes. She looked very young, for a moment, before returning to her older-than-dirt aura. "The descendents of those I left needed to be protected. If not by me, by someone who could. I am ascended…"

"Blah, blah, blah, non-interference, blahdity blah." Rodney tilted his head side to side as he sneered the words. "We've heard it before. I can't. I won't. They won't let me. I understand there has to be rules. I get it, I really do. But, the Ori are coming. You abandoned this galaxy to the Wraith, who you inadvertently created. You sit back and do nothing…"

She stiffened at the tone of his voice. The room grew decidedly warmer as she narrowed her eyes. The glow surrounding her intensified to an almost blinding level

Carson chose that moment to walk back into the room. "Bloody hell!"

Rodney, not stupid and hiding his nervousness, smoothly looked past her at his friend's approximate location, somehow. "Carson, meet Tersane. Another of Sheppard's hotties."

"I do not expect you to understand or forgive me. I did this with the best of intentions," she said with an intense and deadly anger. She disappeared without letting him have his rebuttal.

"Good riddance!" He shouted at her afterimage. Ever since Chaya had misrepresented herself, ever since Morgan le Fay hijacked the holographic archive on Atlantis, he would never trust ascended beings. He would never, ever choose that way of existing. It was too limiting in its infinite power.

"What was all that about?" To his credit, Carson did not squeak out his words.

"Sucking up," Rodney answered disgustedly and turned back around. "What do you really want, Carson?"

"Universal peace and a nice plot of land to settle on…but, for right now, you to lie down and rest." Carson stepped up beside him and put his hand over Rodney's, effectively keeping him from typing anymore. "You'll do no good if ya keel over as the first darts enter the atmosphere."

"Actually," Rodney replied and pulled his hand out from underneath, cringing at the intimate contact, "I'm hoping that they don't even get that close. But, Sheppard has to be able to use this in less than ten hours because those Hives are really hot and bothered now. Their speed increased according to the sensors and another wave of darts is on the way. The Jumpers should be able to take care of most of the darts. The planet's smaller defenses, meaning the drones, should catch the rest. But Sheppard's going to have to fire the drones plus the Fat Man and Little Boy combo special."

"Be that as it may, go to bed _now_, Rodney. Or, I will get Maj. Lorne and his team to pick you up and haul your carcass to a room. And then, I will be forced to inject a mild sleeping agent."

"You wouldn't…" But he knew in his highly logical heart of hearts Carson would. "Love you too, Carson," he toothlessly snarled.

"Away with you." Carson gave him a great big push out the door.

As he walked down the curved corridor, with Carson trailing, he saw that not all of his teammates had found a bed in which to sleep. Ronon sat on the floor in the corridor with a young Marine standing guard on the opposite side of a door. Rodney did not miss the one eye cracking open to see who was trespassing.

"How is he?" Rodney asked, stopping in front of the pair.

"Sleeping like you should be," answered Ronon.

The young Marine shifted in apparent agreement. It was a conspiracy. "Yes…well…heading off to do that, now."

"Good. I told you, we were going to need you."

"Where would you be without me?"

"Dead."

Rodney stopped, as the word left Ronon's mouth, and swallowed. "Right then…going…off to bed…now."

Ronon, nor the Marine, said anything else and Rodney continued his trek to the door two places down.

"Good night, morning, or afternoon, Rodney," Carson said patting Rodney on the shoulder.

"Three or four hours at the most, Carson…I'll sleep like a rock when we get home."

"I understand." Carson smiled and walked away. Rodney stepped inside and fell onto a bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

And awake before his mind and body could register any sack time. "Dr. McKay." A hand was shaking him on the shoulder. His brain was still on the dream about _the Girls Next Door_. Heff was such a lucky old bastard. "Dr. McKay, wake up."

"I'm up! I'm not awake, but I'm up!" He rubbed his eyes and rolled over onto his back. The young Marine nodded at him. "What is it?"

"The Jumpers are going to intercept the next wave of darts…the Colonel is already on his way…he told me to get you…"

"Of course he did!" Rodney bounced his weary body off the comfortable and inviting bed. He stood on his tired and wobbly legs. He staggered out of the room, barely missing the door jam, and shuffled down the hallway to the chair room. When he entered, Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla were already there. Carson entered a few seconds later, grumbling and mumbling to himself. He was still wiping the sleep from his own eyes.

"Sheppard, go ahead and have a seat…you're all right to do this, I'm assuming?" Rodney commanded the question as he snapped his fingers and walked across the room to the main console. Why had he even bothered to ask he did not know, because the answer would be 'yes' no matter what Sheppard's state.

Sheppard grunted affirmation instead of talking.

Teyla took up a spot in front of the long and short range sensors. Anasta and Peo slipped into the hub after Sheppard activated the chair. Ronon played guard dog and stood next to Sheppard. Gahale was still in the room Ronon had placed him in, thankfully. All of the ducks were in place.

Even Tersane remained in her ethereal plane of non-existence. She would probably only talk to Sheppard from now on. Rodney figured that was fine by him. She had better stay out of his way.

-----------------

The moment John lay back in the chair, she stood sheepishly before him in her human suit. He couldn't believe he fell for such a front. Okay, yeah, he could. He had admitted to himself that the perfect image had been chosen. A need he thought he had to meet. He was not fooled into thinking that it was the real man, but he hoped it would ease his conscience. He was wrong. The mistake he would have to accept and live with. He had let his fear get the better of him. The man had died and Sheppard had not gone to pay his respects, in memoriam, before or afterwards. He could not fix that, ever.

"You trusted him, what was I supposed to do? Your people would not have come otherwise…"

"Unless you baited us? Maybe, maybe not. It was still our decision to make…anyway, it's moot now. Let's get this done." He looked the imposter up and down. "And drop the act." His angered simmered but there was a better enemy that really did deserve it. So he directed it at the horde at the door.

Col. Daniel Newton disappeared and Tersane confidently stood before him. "You can't openly help, can you? It's still up to me, right?"

"Yes John."

He grimaced at the familiarity. She had not earned that right. He sniffed his next statement, "Then, let's kill some Wraith."

-----------------

A/N: OK, I went on vacation so please don't throw things at me. But the interval between updates isn't really affected because it takes me forever to update anyway…heh, heh. I lounged around and kept the kids from drowning in the surf and got a little work done. Darn the Dresden Files for distracting me. And the restaurants for feeding me. And the masseuse…well, it was a great vacation. ;)


	16. Ch 15: All Hail to the King, Baby!

Chapter 15

All Hail to the King, Baby!

The Jumpers were almost to the intercept point and the preparations were underway to engage the enemy. The tidal wave of information was licking at him, begging to be noticed. He was getting better at pushing through the swells to pluck out what he needed. But, every once in awhile, a rogue wave would try to knock him over. He would only wobble, catch his balance, and figuratively stand tall. Still, it remained hard to block everything lapping against him.

The Jumpers and the darts stood out in the noise, pinprick beacons against the endless black backdrop. The Hives reminded him of flares, sinister flares, alerting him to trouble within that backdrop. The charging weapon formed a tingling warmth that buzzed under the surface of his skin and the base of his skull. John stood everywhere all at once in the midst of chaos and order. However, he had to remember to prioritize-- darts first.

The Jumpers engaged. There were three against too many as drones filled the void. What had Rodney been thinking when he said the Jumpers could handle them? The echoes bounced back at him in overwhelming numbers. It was time to release his own kennel of hounds to help with the fight.

The Jumper's drones were a very effective weapon and sought out the darts almost on their own. He lent a hand by adding the city's stores to the chaotic mix. Firing drones reminded him of telling a dog to go fetch a stick. The little squids relentlessly hunted until they found their target. John enjoyed ordering his own little Fidos to go fetch and destroy. They did it with ruthless efficiency and attacked the intended targets with precision.

His participation had taken the enemy by surprise. The Hives reacted the only way they could, by firing on the city. The blasts dissipated across the surface of the shield and it held-- protecting all beneath it.

He wanted to laugh at such a meager attempt because he had plenty of drones to take out the first two Hives and their little insect army. Unfortunately, he just could not take out the other three. He let loose a barrage as big as the one the Orion must have fed to one of the Hive ships on its way to snack on Earth. Of course, he had not actually seen that battle, because of being otherwise occupied escaping the other Hive. However, for this one, he had a front row seat. He stood in the middle of the battlefield and, amongst the void, directed his drones like a maestro.

"You're doing fine, John," Tersane said no longer hiding behind veneers. John would not have talked to her otherwise. Yet, he did not need her counsel anymore than he needed another hole in his head.

"Thanks for the news. What about the weather?" He whirled around. "Please, if we're keeping you from something important, don't let the door hit you…"

"_Enough_. I will not apologize. You could not understand my motives in your limited emotional capacity. I have enough regret; I don't need your spite." She snarled her lip and glared at him.

"I can understand plenty…" He paused, because this conversation was distracting him. Some of the drones were going in errant paths and missing their targets. "Just let me do my job, then we can trade insults a little later!" He turned back around and guided his missiles effortlessly. The anger appeared to have help with his overall focus.

The drones struck the Hives as his concentration returned to his job. As the first explosions began, it occurred to him that drones could swarm as magnificently as darts. They completely covered the first Hive until it disintegrated in bouts of flame and noiseless explosions.

The result was a punch to his stomach. All of the information pouring back at him and all of the sensor data apprising him of the death throes dropped him to his knees. It was not so much physical pain as the knowledge of what had happened. It was the intimate knowledge of the absence of life that sucked the breath from his lungs. For a few seconds, he stared at the empty space the Hive had been just moments before.

By definition, he was a killer, but he never took any pleasure in it. If it fell within his duties, then so be it. He considered it perfunctory and necessary to the well being of those he was in charge of, nothing more. This kill was like no other-- personal or impersonal. This was death in intimate numeric terms, yet he stood right there with them as they died _knowing _what had happened. He _felt _their deaths. He could do nothing about it. He could not even get enough emotion together to mourn them, so he pushed it aside like he did with most painful things. They were Wraith after all.

Instead of perseverating on something he could not change or did not want to change, it was time to continue the search in space for the next target. The entire star field shifted as he looked. Hive number two came into focus. She was trying defensive maneuvers, coming about to get a better shot at the planet and avoid the drones. Darts interrupted his view of the ship as they broke from the Jumpers and dived towards the planet. They were going to crash against the shield in a futile attempt to weaken it.

That spike of shock stunned him for just a second. The Jumpers would not make it in time. The main weapon was not ready. The drones he commanded were and so he fired. The panic left as quickly as it had come when he realized what he controlled. The rush of power hit him fully. He could command life and death practically…but that was not his job. He should only be concerned with protecting. It was still such a tempting offer.

"Now you understand. Now you know why we sit back and do nothing, as you say. It's an all or nothing proposition-- a never ending proposition. We must step back and let things be." Tersane stood behind him and he could feel phantom breath on his neck. "Let the Jumpers get them. Let them crash on the shield. The Hive cannot be allowed to attempt the same thing. If that ship makes a suicidal run, then all is lost."

It had not even occurred to him that the Hive would try such a scheme. But, this complex did have the plans for intergalactic hyper drive engines. This place could conceivably get them to Earth if they knew the way. This place could not be allowed to fall into their hands, no matter what. If this Hive's Queen was not a powerful queen, then it was conceivable that the other Hives might sacrifice her. If, if, if…

He returned his attention to the Hive as it tried to back away and gain a little distance from the planet. If it was planning to ram the city, then it was going the wrong way. It was trying to become an insignificant speck on the field of play. "Too late," muttered Sheppard and released another salvo of the drones at the ship.

The ship backpedaled, but a ship that size cannot change direction as quickly as it would like, even in space. He followed the drones as they cut through the hull. He stood amidst the fireball as the ship died. He turned around in time to see the darts taking aim at the city and the shield. He watched as the Jumpers pursued. He felt the vacuum in the pit of his stomach and in his heart as one of his Jumpers exploded from a direct hit by a dart.

John let the power he wielded consume him for a little too long. He raged as the drones left the city and obliterated anything not Atlantian in the sky until he heard the figurative click of an empty clip.

Once again the knowledge, as the telemetry streamed back to him, was more than any physical pain. He quickly scanned the other Hive ships circling just out of reach. He had emptied the cache of drones in his little tirade. They had to know. How enticing would that be?

Very, because they started their run at the flag.

John just smiled and said, "Come to Daddy."

-----------------

Sheppard looked so serene lying in the chair. He looked like a man on Thanksgiving Day full of turkey and taking a tryptophan snooze. Even though Rodney was from Canada, he'd worked in the U.S. long enough to appreciate a day of food and rest. Of course, his computer screen said otherwise. The neutral expression on Sheppard's face was a lie.

"The Jumpers have destroyed a quarter of the darts," relayed Teyla. "Col. Sheppard has destroyed another quarter…and now is targeting one of the Hive ships."

Rodney changed his mind. He wanted Gahale in here to watch the spectacle. He wanted that pompous ass to realize what they were doing. But, did he want to listen to that conniving shitweasel drone on and on and on?

He cast his glance over at the other natives of this little mudball. Anasta and Peo stood transfixed to their spots. Peo shot glances at Sheppard and then at the screens. A melancholy smile crossed her face as she looked back at the Colonel reclined in the chair.

Rodney stared back unbelieving. Ronon also gave his own penetrating glare at the waif of a girl. Under their scrutiny Peo ducked her eyes and blushed. In turn, Anasta looked between the two and furrowed her brow. Anasta smiled questioningly at Peo who turned a deeper shade of red and tried to look inconspicuous.

Unbelievable, Sheppard had done it again. The Kirk charm spread across the galaxy and the man did not even have to be coherent to do it. Rodney shook his head and went back to the readouts. It was just unfair.

"Second Hive has been destroyed…" Teyla reported.

"No! Sheppard not all of them!" Rodney yelled as he caught the counter on the drones dwindle down to zero.

"All remaining darts have been destroyed…we have lost one of the Jumpers!" Teyla turned and looked momentarily pained. "The remaining Hives are coming in now!"

"He doesn't have anymore drones…but…" Rodney grinned and turned to address the entire room, "The weapon is charged and online! Get Gahale and let him watch what we can do to his imaginary friends!"

Sheppard instantly stood before him. "I'm ready Rodney, when they get in close enough all of the power is going to drain into the weapon…everything will go dark except for your console and possibly the scanners. Of course, it may take all of the power and drain the shield as well. Just thought you might like to know."

"It shouldn't but…thanks for the warning!" Rodney ran back to his computer and started calculating if what Sheppard said was true.

"Glad to be of a little help. They're here, McKay. See you in a few." Sheppard disappeared and all of the lights went out except for Rodney's console and the single spotlight pouring down on a relaxed Sheppard.

The room started to throb and tingle. A feeling of pulsing energy crackled through it. On the monitors, it looked like the shield was strengthening. Ingeniously, it did not look like a weapon was about ready to fire. It masked the true danger well. The Hive's were coming into a well laid trap.

-----------------

The influx of information crushed him, but he was prepared. John reached deeper into the vortex and found _It_. He found the center. He found the life at the middle. He found the Wraith's death. He coiled it around his arm and kept pulling.

"That's it," encouraged Tersane. She had remained to see this thing to the end. In some small way, of which he did not want to dwell on, John was semi-grateful. "That's it, bring it to you."

He kept drawing all available power from deep within the earth's crust. Pulling and pulling, he gathered it into a ball of energy that resembled a large skein of pulsing yarn. Twisting, turning, stretching, and gathering it unto himself in the emitters underneath the complex. The power drained into the quiver gelatin-like plasma ball…all or nothing.

The complex went dark from everything going into this mass of power. His very body tingled. His nerves burned. His mind hyper-focused with the concentration and control.

His sensors plotted the huge enemy vessels. He pinpointed the tiny darts that the ships had released. He wanted them to know that their fight was already over. He wanted them to feel the fear of being hunted. He knew now how Chaya had defeated those Wraith darts around Proculus. He knew what it took to channel that much energy and not necessarily want to use it.

He gave a final warning, leave now or in pieces.

The Hives ignored his hail. They continued to advance and their life signs continued to beat within his own heart. Thousands cowered in the shelters on the planet. Others were in this very building waiting for the end. Some had stayed where they lived. He would protect them all.

_Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin. _He was ready to huff and to puff and to blow the big bad Hives away. 

He waited, he watched, and he listened to the long silence stretching before him.

The sensors gave an ordinary bleep- target acquisition. He fired without further delay. He released all of the pent-up energy and directed it at the Hives like the Trebuchets that had attacked Xerigor's walls. The giant ball of energy traveled across the distance in an instant and made contact.

There was a brief inhale as the first particle touched the tip of the first dart and then the power ripped through the darts annihilating them into dust. The beats within the tiny ships halted. John stopped breathing but willed the energy to continue forward.

As the Hives maneuvered futilely, John could not help but feel a little vindication for the past: the Wraith's attacks on Atlantis, their failed attempts at Earth, their utter hunger and unwillingness to find no other food source. Their hands on his own flesh…

He was almost giddy when the energy finally reached the first Hive and evaporated it with ease. The second and third Hives soon followed in massive explosions that stopped the life signs along with his heart. They were simply gone.

Tersane did not smile or gloat. She nodded in mute satisfaction as he took in his first breaths of imagined air. The absence of life was horrifying. But, he had wanted revenge for deeds done for so long. He felt no remorse, just the empty acknowledgement that his checklist was complete. Another lie he had told to himself to prove that he was just a professional doing his job.

"Now it is my turn to complete my checklist," Tersane stated calmly.

John faced her as she barely voiced a, "Thank you," towards him.

Everything around him started to burn away like newspaper in the fireplace. The entire virtual-scape disintegrated as he stood in the center. The fire singed his lungs and she bid farewell.

"This is too much for any man to control," Tersane quietly said. "Time for us to part, John Sheppard. Don't let the door hit _you _on the way out."

-----------------

A/N: Yes finally the next chapter…no excuse, just refining.

Had my 20th class reunion. Had a blast and a nice surprise as one of my friends got to fly in from Australia! She got the furthest distance prize. Go figure!


	17. Ch 16: Tenth Inning Stretch

Chapter 16

Tenth Inning Stretch

"Oh no," whispered Rodney because the computer was doing some very funky things. "The computer is doing some very funky things."

"McKay, define funky," demanded Lorne as he walked quickly across the room.

"Funky as in deleting!" Rodney started to punch buttons on the Ancient consoles and then scrambled to type commands into his. "What the hell did you do, Sheppard?"

"The screens are turning off and going blank, Rodney!" shouted Teyla from her post in front of the sensors.

"I know! I know! And I don't know why!" He spun to face the chair. Sheppard fairly sprang out of it as if it was on fire.

"Thanks for the warning!" he bellowed at the chair and rubbed his hands and arms. "Cranky, old bat."

"What did you do?" Rodney yelled.

"What do you mean, what did I do? I destroyed the enemy and saved the planet! Why? What did you do? Oh and by the way, the cranky lady tried to fry me up like mullet." He pointed at the control chair as he staggered away from it.

"The entire data base and most of the system's programs are deleting except for a few things like the shield and sensors." Rodney looked at the chair too as lights flickered before returning to full illumination. "Looks like someone didn't like us using her stuff!" he yelled at the ceiling.

"Sensors are still functioning? Did they get off any messages or data streams to any other Hives?" Sheppard asked, as he stepped beside Rodney and Lorne. "I didn't have time to check. It seems checkout was at…" He looked at his watch. "O' eight-hundred Atlantis time."

"That arrogant bitch," sneered Rodney.

Doctor," admonished Anasta, her patience evidently wearing thin. "Do not question the ways of the Protectoress."

Peo bowed her head in reverence along with the Dame. "Yes, do not question the ways of the Protectoress," she whispered barely audible to the rest of the room.

Rodney snorted and Sheppard followed it with a quick jab to the side. "Don't insult the people with weapons until we are out of their complex, McKay." Sheppard turned around and gave a slight nod to the Dame. "Sorry Dame Anasta, but right now, I think it is in all of our best interests to vamoose."

Sheppard took one step away from the console and nearly collapsed. "Colonel!" Teyla shouted as she reached his side before Carson. Rodney just stood there. Sheppard had been standing next to him being his usual annoying self and the next thing he knows, the man is on the floor.

"Alright, no more arguments or excuses, your team is on the next Jumper home," Carson said as he checked Sheppard over.

"I'm fine, really…Okay…a little dizzy with a massive headache…Incredibly tired…Chest feels like Ronon sat on it," conceded Sheppard after stern looks from everyone surrounding him. Finding no support for the initial white lie, he decided to own up to a little discomfort-- or so Rodney surmised.

Lorne was on the radio calling for the Jumpers. Carson was taking vitals. Teyla was sitting beside Sheppard on the floor (Rodney had almost forgotten she had been seriously injured just a day before, or maybe it was two, now). He was all of a sudden hit with the biggest urge to go home now that most of everything contained within the computers of Xerigor was gone-- all of it erased by that Ancient tart.

He smiled blithely at Anasta and her little companion wanting to brain them into realizing that the figure they paid homage to was just another type of being. Smarter, more advanced, gorgeous in that female sort of way-- she had breasts. What more could a man ask for? Obviously, she was not a deity and, in that, Gahale was right.

He reigned in his cavorting brain. Home, they needed to get out of the basement, so he checked to make sure all of the transporters were working or it was going to be a really long climb. They were, thank God. "Where's the blowhard? He missed all of the fireworks." Rodney looked at Ronon as he disconnected his notebook.

Ronon gave a nonchalant shrug and said, "Forgot to go get him…liked the quiet."

Lorne directed one of his marine's to go get the leader. The low key murmurs were overpowered by the squawking leader about a half a minute later. "You'll rue the day you treated _ME_ like a common criminal, a servant, and a squalid peon working in my own household!" There was a pause, long enough for a breath, and the rant continued. "What did you do? Make it so I could not take my place as governor of this city again? I will not be dismissed like a common soldier!"

"Or we could just leave him down here, sir," whispered Lorne. "Lock the door; throw away the key type of thing."

Sheppard just laughed tiredly through his nose and did not respond. "What I thought, sir. But he doesn't have to know that, does he?"

Sheppard snorted again.

"Alright," interrupted Carson. "Let's get you to your feet and get the bloody hell out of here."

The entire group came to a tired attention as Sheppard was pulled to his feet by Carson and the assisting medic. Teyla stood next to him and gave him a shoulder to rest on. "Now Teyla…" stuttered Carson.

"I will lean on him as he leans on me," Teyla replied letting him know in no uncertain terms she would help Sheppard.

"Then I will take the other side," Carson grudgingly consented.

"Major, you have the lead," said Sheppard. "Let's go home."

Rodney thought that sounded like a great idea.

-----------------

The transporter had never looked so good. John let a slow deliberate smile creep across his face. He took a deep breath as Lorne and part of his team stepped into the small closet with Ronon. It did give a new meaning to coming out of the closet…since that is what the expedition thought they were at first. Poor Jinto found out the true purpose to creepy effect. That seemed like such a long time ago.

Anasta was next with her entourage and Rodney along with the remainder of Lorne's team. Sheppard, standing with Carson, Teyla, the medic and Gahale, was last. Gahale also had his personal escort in the form of a large Marine sergeant who was whispering in his ear and, Sheppard noticed lastly, Peo. She was standing against the wall quietly waiting.

His smile stayed in place as Gahale got pushed from behind into the little confined space. The sergeant must have said something to quiet him for a moment. After the bright flash of light, they immediately stepped out into the council room.

"The tables will be filled with rightful representatives again, Gahale," greeted Anasta before they had even fully stepped into the room. "Your old ingratiates will have to find another place to haunt. YOUR days are at an end."

Anasta stood a little higher on the incline in the large room. It had several rows of long desk like tables for representatives to sit. A podium was to their left that would have held the leader of the assembly. She pointed right at it.

"The Voice of the Ponderers will be heard once more." As the Dame continued to rail, John noticed Tangred standing in the door way to the hall triumphantly smiling at her Dame. Lorne had just finished talking to her and was walking back towards them.

"It seems sir, that Gahale's men have not shown their faces since the attack. Tangred reports that the explosions from the darts hitting the shield were "awesome" and sent them scattering. There are some areas where the wreckage can be seen from the battlements of the city. Proof, she says, that the Insubstantiate were defeated by the Protectoress and Col. Sheppard." He nodded his head as he said John's name and rank. "But, there is the matter of…"

"Doctor Beckett!" Tangred called down to Carson from the position in the main doorway. "There are some of my people that need care…"

"Coming my dear!" Carson let go of Sheppard. Almost immediately, Peo slipped underneath his arm to take the doctor's place.

Surprised, Sheppard looked down at her as she looked up at him. Peo was not smiling. She punched him in the side, or that was what he thought at first.

She whispered apologetically, "Thank you for saving us, but he must be avenged, even if he was wrong."

He realized that she had stabbed him when she pulled out the blade. The small knife was similar in style to that of Teomin's mini-sword. The pain from it was unlike anything he had felt before. He felt like the carved ham at Christmas.

He pushed her clumsily away and fell hard into Teyla. They hit one of the table/desks, his weight trapping her against the furniture. His body was frozen in shock along with his mind.

Killing Teomin had come back to bite him right in his ass (or side). The zealots within the zealots had a single minded determination. He knew they would. He had foolishly hoped that they would let it go seeing as he had saved the planet. He was wrong. Even then, he certainly did not expect it from this healer. He did not expect…and that was when he knew he should have. She had been within reach the entire time watching and waiting. She had been just another face in the crowd. Ronon was going to be really mad at him and himself.

"NOT WITHOUT A FIGHT!" yelled Gahale from somewhere near him, obviously answering Anasta's challenge. He was probably clueless on what was going on right next to him.

Sheppard could picture the bastard's face turning as red as the knife in Peo's hand. He wanted to laugh-- they were not finished with this garden spot of a planet yet. Or more accurately, it was not finished with them. Tersane could have warned him though…damn it.

For a moment, Gahale's yell was followed by an ominous silence. Then Rodney must have realized what had happened along with others on his team. Shouts and orders started echoing around the room.

"Oh shit!" There were several of those shouted at one time. It was a divine chorus of cursing.

"Peo, what have you done?"

"Dame! What are you waiting for? Get her out of here!" Tangred screamed.

"Aaaaaaaaah!" The growl belonged to Ronon. John thought it added a nice guttural touch to chorus.

His eyes never left Peo. She had taken a couple of steps away from him and had shut her eyes waiting to be gunned down or arrested or something, anything. Not to be forgotten, squawking on the head sets added to the squawking uproar in the chamber.

Something about dots--

-----------------

Lorne should have knocked on wood, the idiot.

Rodney watched as Sheppard slid to the floor with Teyla attached to him. A wet, dark spot spread from under him onto the hard wood surface and ran down the incline. He fumbled with his Life Signs Detector as he rushed to get to his team leader's side. Teyla was pinned underneath because Sheppard was slow to move off of her.

He wanted to let a round of inappropriate laughter rear up and take him. It looked like a Chaplin skit-- both of them fumbling to stand up and to get out of each others way. But even if the Little Tramp was injured in his movies, it did not look like a faucet of red draining onto the floor.

He was about five steps away when a clay cylinder dropped between him and Sheppard. A wick at one end was quickly burning down. His eyes immediately met Sheppard's and, in unison, they screamed, "BOMB!"

Lorne should have knocked on wood, thrown salt over his shoulder, made the sign of the cross, or any other superstitious gesture. The gods must have been very crazy or just plain angry.

He reversed gears and ran back up the incline to take cover behind a table/desk when the cylinder exploded. He felt like somebody had pushed him down. He hit the floor with teeth rattling force. Then, Pandemonium ruled. The loud popping of single-shot guns, bullets hitting wood or wall, shouting, and screaming were followed by deafening P90 fire and .9mil fire within the enclosed room. He heard the clink of clay on wood, again, and the table he was under went flying up in the air only to land right on him. He screamed as the weight slammed onto him and the splinters pierced parts of his body.

Ronon's blaster fired. Gahale screamed. Lorne bellowed commands. The weight lifted. Hands grabbed him and rolled him on to his side. He looked straight into Sheppard's unnaturally white face.

"Looks like I get to return the favor, Buddy. We've come full circle." He looked across Rodney and shouted, "Behind you!" Three quick pops followed. "Secure those doors!" He yelled at someone else while checking for any injuries.

"Teyla and Ronon's got your back and I've got you," Sheppard rolled Rodney back onto his stomach and pressed a bandage on his back. Rodney shrieked at the fire erupting from deep with in his body. It felt like the Colonel was stirring up a batch of lava-infused mud pies in his lumbar region.

He had but one retort to give to his team leader and friend, "B-but who has you?"

Sheppard sat back onto his heels and smiled. With amused, crinkled eyes, dripping, scarlet lips, and a bloody nose, he hitched a thumb to his left and said, "Him."

A Marine appeared next to him and started pressing a bandage into Sheppard's wound. Sheppard hissed wetly and looked drunkenly at the young man. "He's all…he's all yours." Without any warning, he slumped like a rag doll. Teyla materialized on his other side to catch him. She cradle his head against her body and slowly laid him down with the Marine's help.

"Do not worry, Rodney. Ronon's here and Dr. Beckett and Maj. Lorne are coming!" she yelled over the noise of fighting. Ronon's cannon fired from somewhere close and Carson's brogue was not far away, either. The sound was comforting in a useless sort of way.

As the confusion continued in the chamber, Rodney was very curious about how they would get out or what would happen next. It would not be his problem, because the train roaring in his ears said it was time to get on board. He might sleep through to the end. He might or might not make it to the end of the line. He might not even be able to disembark if he was lucky enough to make it. But his team had his back like he had had theirs and that was what really mattered.

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A/N: Thanks to all of you who have stuck with this long-winded tale. Never did I imagine it would take this long to tell…oh well. We are getting to the end…one more chapter after this…maybe?


	18. Ch 17: Getting Crazy with the Cheez Whiz

A/N: OK Krysalys: epilogue and a chapter.

Chapter 17

Getting Crazy with the Cheez Whiz

"They came out of nowhere, sir." Sheppard heard someone say from a position very close to him. "Hidden passageways like the one to that fat fuck's office. Didn't know the doorways were there until they opened and people poured out of them and started shooting. Although, I don't think they liked him anymore than we did by the way they shot him point blank."

"Understood, sergeant. How're they doing, Doc? As a matter of fact, how're you doing?" He recognized Lorne's voice asking the questions.

"We would be doing better if we were setting this flying tube down in the Jumper bay instead of gabbing--"

"Understand that too, Doc. Jumper 4 needs to dock before we can go through."

"I think the Colonel's coming around," Beckett said. "Col. Sheppard? Col. Sheppard, we're on our way home."

John thought he might as well answer.

"Carson? Rodney?" he whispered as he fought with his eyelids to open. He needed to know how McKay was doing. He remembered seeing the desk splinter and soar. When it landed, he knew he needed to get to McKay. From his position behind another desk, he scrambled to where Rodney lay. Teyla went with him and somehow, through an adrenaline haze and bullets pinging too close for comfort, they pushed the thing off of him. His focus had been completely on helping his teammate trapped underneath the shattered piece of furniture. He was going to save his friend come hell or high water. His injuries became a distant second in importance. He made the pain fade just long enough to get there and help.

Strangely, he remembered thinking the chaos in the government room was how a battle was supposed to be fought. It was messy, dangerous, loud, frightening, and disorienting. It was not supposed to be the antiseptic and, even worse, easy way in which he had destroyed the Wraith. It was disconcerting how comforting it was. How normal it was-- a level playing field.

"Rodney is on the other side of me. Ronon and Teyla are up front with minor cuts and abrasions. We had to let the seriously injured in the Jumper ahead of us land before we can go through. You're almost home."

"That's nice." It was nice. A nice little song of _home, home, home _twittered in his head. He was pretty sure that his nice, happy mood might have something to do with the IV he could feel in his arm. "Farquad's dead?" It had taken him a minute to process what the sergeant had said.

"Who?"

"Sorry, Gahale."

The doctor grimaced. "Oh, yes, but the Dame is very much alive, as is the revolution. Apparently, Gahale's men didn't like the way he was running things either. One of them thought he could do a better job and threw his hat into the ring. Our people, with Tangred's help, held them off until we could evac the injured, the rest of our people, and a few of their seriously injured. Seems things are going to change in Xerigor." As he prattled on, Beckett kept checking bandages and vitals.

Well that was self-evident by the way his team had met Anasta's little troupe of zealots. Speaking of zealots…

"The little girl that stabbed me?"

Carson patted his shoulder. Sheppard was not sure whether the doctor was consoling him or reassuring him. "Also dead. Shot by one of the first volley of bullets into the room."

Of course the information did not surprise him. "Huh. Think she expected that." He coughed and it brought the tang of blood to his tongue. "Think…we'd…better hurry…Cars…n." His chest felt funny. His side and belly throbbed dully. He smiled at Carson no longer seeing him. He was not even talking to him when he slurred, "At leas' we completed the mission, sir."

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"Maj. Lorne…get this thing through that bloody circle, now!"

Rodney had been listening as Carson spoke with Sheppard. He thought it would be ironic that after destroying five Hive ships, a six inch blade would bring Sheppard down. Peo had been a healer and had plunged the knife where it would do some nice damage. He listened as Carson instructed a Marine to hold something here and place his hand there.

"Too bad we couldn't use the medical center to stabilize them first," Carson stated absently.

"Not secure, Doc," Lorne answered back. "We're cleared."

Rodney was surprised he was awake. Drowsy, sleepy, doped-up, and any other dwarf he could think of at the moment, but awake-- and on his stomach, immobilized. Then the welcomed vortex raced them all back to Atlantis.

"Is he all right?" he asked once they exited.

"Rodney! Oh good Lord, man, how long? Never mind…can you squeeze my hand?"

He panicked for a moment and then remembered that a large piece of furniture had landed on him. Carson thought he had a broken back or something like that. He was paralyzed and doomed to never work on this glittering, technological jewel of a city again. He was a throw-away scientist that was going to be stuck in the bowels of Area 51 in his wheelchair.

"Squeeze my hand, Rodney," Carson ordered a little more emphatically.

He did it.

"Good job. We'll see after the scan what other damage you have."

"D-damage?"

"Rodney, you have a piece of wood sticking out of your back. We'll scan you and get you set up for surgery. It's going to be all right. Both you and Col. Sheppard are in good hands."

The back of the Jumper opened. Carson left his side and started barking orders. Rodney felt his litter getting lifted off the bench. He saw a glimpse of Sheppard. The image burned into his mind was of white and red. Too much red. Red all over the white. Rodney could not see anything of his gurney so figured it might look the same way.

"We are here, Dr. McKay," called Teyla softly, reassuring him.

"Yeah," agreed Ronon from close by.

Rodney closed his eyes as the bed clattered down the hallways of Atlantis. When he reopened them, he heard Elizabeth's sweet, dulcet, and exasperated voice. "I'm going to lock you in a room and throw away the key. The whole area around the city is in revolt."

"I do not think that we are the cause of it, Dr. Weir."

"Teyla, how are you feeling?" Elizabeth answered in a caught-in-the-act sort of voice.

"Very rested, thank you." Teyla sounded almost too friendly.

"I know, but this is just the sort of thing your team finds time and time again."

Calmly, Teyla defended her comrades in arms, "I would like to point out that the Dame's army was in route to attack the city when we encountered them on the road. They attacked us…Gahale even attacked us. Gahale's men had apparently planned on removing him from office at the first chance. We were in the right place at the right time as well as the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Tersane lured us there…" rasped a low voice.

Rodney took a quick intake of breath at the voice, Sheppard's voice. He sounded very tired and weak, but alive.

"What do you think, Rodney? Tersane playing fair?"

There were small exclamations of surprise. Rodney should have known he would be the first to recognize his alertness. Even with drugs pumping through his system, Sheppard was a perceptive bastard. Carson followed a nurse over and they began checking this, that, and the other thing.

Rodney had to answer Sheppard after the initial prods. He swallowed and croaked out, "No. But when do they ever?"

"Good to have you back, McKay," Ronon greeted in a low rumble. Rodney looked towards the voice and saw the big man sitting between him and Sheppard. He had band-aids over cuts and an ACE bandage on his left hand. Incidentally, Sheppard had more tubes and wires than a Borg and the complexion to go with it. Rodney looked around his own bed and realized he was not too far from Locutus himself.

Teyla stepped up to his bed. She too had a few strips of plastic on her face and a larger bandage on her shoulder. She smiled and laid a hand on his arm.

"We won, right?"

Sheppard snorted and then choked, "Jesus, McKay. Don't make me laugh. Win-- sort of. Survive-- definitely. We lost some people..." He stopped talking for a moment before continuing, "But on the whole…we did what we set out to do, except get any useful information on ZPMs, or the schematics for the ships, or the secrets of the universe as a whole."

There was something in his voice that Rodney was slow to recognize. Drugs, pain, and extreme fatigue slowed his razor sharp senses. Maybe the something was bitter disappointment. Or maybe it was regret.

"I had everything right there, McKay. Everything…" Ah, Rodney thought, the infinite cosmic power syndrome. Sheppard was in good company because Rodney suffered from that too. Great and powerful things slipping through your fingers…like sands in the hourglass…

"Perhaps, John," Elizabeth answered standing in between their beds. "But from what I understand…you would not have survived getting that little present downloaded into your mind. Quite frankly, I like the fact that you did survive with your brain intact. Actually, I like it quite a lot." She pursed her lips together before her next statement. "I'm still mad that you disregarded medical advice and my order to return, but that is a discussion for when you aren't flat on your back fighting an infection."

Rodney started. "Infection?"

Carson placed his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Nothing to worry about, antibiotics are handling it quite well…like yours." He busied himself with adding notes to the chart and avoiding any direct eye contact.

Rodney was pretty sure that his eyes dislocated from his sockets with the news. "How long have…?"

"Have you been asleep?" finished Carson looking up from the chart. "Three days due to exhaustion, medication, and the leg of a large legal desk sticking out of your back…"

His eyes probably were floating in the air like balloons now. He looked over at Sheppard and Sheppard gave a lazy yet impish smile. The look revealed his regret for not having the answers to the universe while having his mind tilled into mush. However, Sheppard was pragmatic and would get over. But, he was never able to let a game of one-upmanship slip past him, so the multi-layered smile reflected that too.

"What?" Rodney asked suspiciously as the smile lingered for a little too long.

An air of feigned innocence surrounded Sheppard when he casually said, "Nothing."

"Oh no you don't. _What_?" His sonar for fishy behavior was pinging away.

"It's just that…after saving the planet, having a chest wound, and getting a nice vent added to my side…I woke up first, you puss."

For a second, Rodney contemplated trying to get up and show Sheppard where he could shove one of those poles attached to an IV. It would have been a bad idea because the slightest movements felt like a litter of sharp-clawed kittens were using his insides as a scratching post. He settled for, "Okay Humpty Dumpty, you'd just better be glad that I'm not one of the King's Men…even if you are a royal-sized horse's as--"

Sheppard cut him off by snorting and groaning within the same breath, "Touché, Merideth, touché."

He snarled his lip at his first name. Now Rodney had two people on his revenge list. Two very dead (as in a cold shower or a climate control problem or something he hadn't even devised yet) people…

Exhaustion pulled him under as the snickers and chuckles resounded in his ears.

Later in the evening after all of the visitors had left and Rodney felt stronger and more awake than he had earlier, he noticed the full beds. Lorne occupied one, a bandage on his head and another around a bicep. Another Marine, who had been on detail with some of the Ponderers, had a large square bandage on his neck. There were even a few of the religious group in beds farther away. A nurse was placing a screen between them and the Atlantians.

He also noticed Sheppard fidgeting in his bed. "Can't sleep?" Rodney asked in a staged whisper.

"No." With the games of earlier completely gone, Sheppard seemed subdued. He inhaled as if thinking over what he wanted to say next, contemplating if he wanted to get into this right now, in the middle of night, in the infirmary. "I had it all right there, Rodney. We could have had the answers, most of the answers that we've looked for since coming here. We had the means to destroy a Wraith Hive with nothing more than a thought…"

"And any other enemy that gets in our way. I understand. I really do, Sheppard. But, it wasn't worth the price…" Rodney stopped because he wasn't sure if _he _wanted to get into this right now, in the middle of the night, in the infirmary.

"When I was shot…" Sheppard paused again. "I was remembering a time when another C.O. needed me. That mission fizzled. Then, a couple of months ago…"

Rodney realized this was one of those moments that best friends did for each other. They listen and don't interrupt until the story is finished.

"A couple of months ago, he needed me again. I'm not good with certain aspects of family or friends, McKay. I've gotten better, more practice." Rodney figured he was thinking of when Jeannie came for a visit. He knew that Sheppard had had some long talks with her as well as the ones with him. Sheppard had never made himself so available. Ronon's Satedan day trip had brought out a very protective and familial side in the closed off man.

"I didn't go and he died. I can't let that happen again. I don't know how I'll react the next time, but I can't…" Sheppard stopped and laid silently in the next bed, the surrounding machines' bleeps and bloops were the only sounds.

Rodney knew that giving advice was his weakest point in being a friend. He had had a great teacher in Carson, but he was still Rodney McKay, more of an information giver. He decided to shoot from the gut. "In the immortal words of Kenny Rogers, you've got to know when to hold 'em…know when to fold 'em…know when to walk away..."

Before he could finish, Sheppard laughed and then groaned. "Damn it, Rodney." The sheets shifted in the semi-darkness of the infirmary. "But thanks just the same."

As corny as it sounded, it seemed as simple as that.

"You're welcome. Now, before the nurse comes over and shushes us like a needle wielding librarian, let's get some sleep."

"Yes Mer…"

"Shut up, Sheppard." Rodney gingerly rolled over in a great show of going to sleep. But he couldn't sleep. He was part of something big. He was part of something great. He was a friend and a brother. Also, he was in a lot of pain and wishing the needle wielding nurse was on her way to take vitals and to give him something on the narcotic side.

It did not change the fact that he was a changed man because of this place and these people. He liked this new guy. He hoped that he could keep this new guy around for awhile, because the new guy was liked by more beings than just his cat.

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A/N: Epilogue follows.


	19. Epilogue:Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Epilogue

Where Everybody Knows Your Name (or Close Enough)

John stood on the balcony with a crystal glass of apple juice. Since he was still on some marvelous medications, alcohol consumption was strictly prohibited. An ownerless champagne glass of juice sat on the ledge, waiting for him.

"To you, Gen. Newton. Thanks." The delicate glasses clinked and he drank his portion.

"How's the kidney?"

Startled, he turned his head and faced his questioner. "Fine, as is my lung and intestinal tract. My infection is gone. I can take short walks and utilize the facilities on my own, thanks for asking." He smiled charmingly at the interloper.

"Good."

Ronon looked at the lonely little glass and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Saying goodbye to a friend."

Ronon nodded, needing no more explanation.

"The Jumpers are ready to take back the last group of Ponderers. They're excited since it seems the Dame has retaken the city. Maybe McKay can get back there and try to figure out if anything can be done about the database."

"Yeah, maybe."

Ronon gave John a contemplative look. "They assure us that your safety is guaranteed. It had better be."

John really loved his team. Ronon had lost the feral quality from his first days on Atlantis and donned a more dangerous and controlled quality in his threats. If possible, it was even scarier.

It would not matter if his safety was assured anyway. He was going if he had to lean on a pronged cane. He needed to make sure that something the Protectoress has said sunk in whether his safety was assured or not. He had to present himself to the Divine Orator to make sure that if they were to continue relations, she understood something. Many philosophies from Earth did not apply in Pegasus, but this was one he hoped would. Weir agreed.

All too quickly, he found himself seated beside Elizabeth in the back of the Jumper. Teyla was across from him as was Ronon. Rodney was unable to travel yet so he stayed behind. Radek went in his stead.

"Make sure they understand not to take out the pretty crystal. I know it's like trying to make Granny understand not to set a fire in the electric stove, but maybe on the third telling they'll get it." Radek had listened and reassured Rodney countless times.

He still offered, "Maybe I should go."

"Over my dead body," replied Carson. After that, the matter was pretty much closed.

As they set down, a delegation set out from the city to greet them. The second Jumper opened its hatch to let out the returning locals. Anasta led the way, followed by Tangred. They were dressed in colorful robes, definitely not for battle. Anasta wore her blood red. Tangred wore purple. Another followed in green. If his memory served him, it was Cassis, Teomin's replacement.

Ronon stepped closer and shadowed him as they entered the city to a much different reception. People cheered. They threw flowers instead of catcalls, bullets and last month's produce. They even seemed happier. The city seemed cleaner. It smelled better. He hoped it was not a show for the "messengers".

"I noticed the time dilation field is gone," John whispered to Radek.

"Yes, Rodney said it was shut down when the computer began purging its memory."

Made sense, thought John. Didn't need it anymore, did they?

They walked up the steps of the main government offices and into an airy receiving hall festooned with banners and tapestries. The building seemed less oppressive now. He hoped it would last and these people could live long lives.

The Atlantians bowed to delegates from different city states. The delegates thanked them endlessly for saving the planet. John thought he could get used to this, because not many places celebrated their arrival.

The injured were also celebrated for having visited the halls of the Protectoress. They were overwhelmed by people asking them what it was like. Sheppard could hear oohs and aahs at the descriptions, "Glittering spires…endless waters…" and so forth and so on. They were having their fifteen minutes.

After all of pomp and circumstance, what he really needed was a place to sit. He found a bench in a quiet corner. Anasta soon sat beside him.

"Looks like real progress since my last visit," he casually remarked.

Her eyes crinkled with amusement. "We are trying…with your people's guidance as well as the Protectoress--"

"Speaking of her…I wanted to mention--"

Another official from a neighboring city interrupted and wanted Anasta to come settle an argument. She excused herself and left him sitting alone, but not for long, because Tangred took her place.

"All are welcome," she said. "It is not forgotten. I could see it in your eyes, Col. Sheppard. You wanted to make sure we did not make the same mistakes again."

John closed his eyes and smiled at his feet. "I'm an open book."

"No, but as apparent as the sun in the clear midday sky."

"Or that," he chuckled in agreement.

"We are doing our best, it is not easy." She pointed to a group of people standing near Dr. Weir. "They are not part of our religion, but they are part of the governing council. It is a directive straight from the Protecotess' mouth. How could we forget?"

"No, I expect it's not easy to make such big changes. Keep up the good work then."

"We have bunkers to hide us during a culling. We have the shield to protect…" She sat up straighter and grinned ear to ear as she said, "…Xerigor." She stood to leave. "Thank you…you are always welcome here."

He gave her the charming smile as she left. He immediately searched for Ronon. Catching his eye, Ronon came quickly over. "I think I need to get back." Carson had only let him come if it was short. Everyone knew he would only stay for a little while.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Fatigue was pulling on him. His leg and side throbbed. He also knew that this mission had turned out pretty decently, even if most of the team needed medical care upon returning and some did not come back at all. The shipyards were still here. The people were still here. This had not been a failure. The crowd in this room confirmed it. Plus he got to fire a really cool weapon.

Teyla and Elizabeth were mixing easily. Radek was showing someone something on his computer. He wished them luck.

Smirking at those assembled in the room, he replied, "Yeah, I think that I am. Let's go home."

The End

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A/N: Oh my, it's through. For better or for worse, it's done. Finished. Complete. Thanks for sticking with this. The reviews, hits and choosing any other button down there is truly appreciated.


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